


Spark to Spark, Dust to Dust: Volume I

by Cody_MacArthur_Fett, Cyclone_Knight



Series: Spark to Spark, Dust to Dust [2]
Category: RWBY, Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Cameos, Gen, Lies, Love Triangles, Redemption, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-22 12:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 52,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30038418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cody_MacArthur_Fett/pseuds/Cody_MacArthur_Fett, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyclone_Knight/pseuds/Cyclone_Knight
Summary: Barely a month into her time at Beacon, Yang Xiao Long made a fateful purchase. Little did she know that this would lead her into a war fought in the shadows and a life in whicheverythingismore than meets the eye.
Relationships: Adam Taurus & Optimus Prime, Adam Taurus & Yang Xiao Long, Bumblebee (Transformers) & Yang Xiao Long, Jaune Arc & Pyrrha Nikos & Ruby Rose & Weiss Schnee, Team JNPR & Team RWBY
Series: Spark to Spark, Dust to Dust [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205219
Comments: 8
Kudos: 4





	1. V1E1: A Girl and Her Car

_"How did we get here?"_

_It is a question often asked, and you might have difficulty accepting the humble beginning of the events that have since changed Remnant as we know it._

_But even the greatest conflagration begins with a single spark._

_And this story begins -- as many great stories do -- with a girl. And a tragedy._

* * *  
  
**Volume I: Episode 1: A Girl and Her Car**  
  
* * * 

  
"MY BIKE!" Yang stared at the burning wreckage where some idiot had plowed his truck _over_ her beloved Bumblebee and into a storefront.  
  
"You know, sis," Ruby said gently, "maybe next time, you should get something a bit more, umm… durable?"  
  
Yang did not reply, but instead slowly turned her head to look at her sister, eyes glowing red with fury.  
  
“Okay, too soon, point taken.”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
Ruby, Weiss, and Blake peered at the fourth member of their team as she lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.  
  
"She's been like this ever since the accident," Blake noted quietly. "Is that... normal for her?"  
  
"She… _really_ liked that bike," Ruby whispered back with a shrug.  
  
"This is ridiculous," Weiss hissed. "It's _just_ a bike!"  
  
"It wasn't _just_ a bike," Ruby retorted, trying to keep her voice low. "It was _her_ bike. It was _Bumblebee_."  
  
"You three know I can hear you, right?"  
  
"Eep!"  
  
Blake shook her head. "This is ridiculous. Listen, if the bike is such a big deal, why not just get it fixed? Even if it's beyond a regular auto shop… I know some people."  
  
"Who?" Yang demanded.  
  
Blake blinked, stepping back in surprise at finding the blonde suddenly in her face. Since when could Yang move that fast?  
  
"Uh, right," Blake hedged, "there's one girl, genius mechanic, but the thing is, she charges… quite a lot for her services."  
  
"Don't worry about that," Weiss interjected. "I have a _generous_ allowance, and in the name of team unity, I'm willing to cover it." Her eyes narrowed. "Just so long as this 'genius mechanic' of yours can actually deliver."  
  
"Hey, trust me," Blake assured her. "She can fix _anything_."  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
"I can't fix this," Maple said, shaking her head and tossing her gloves on the tool cart.  
  
"You told me you could fix anything," Blake pointed out.  
  
"' _Almost_ anything,'" the faunus mechanic corrected, pulling the scrunchie she wore out of her light brown hair, shaking her hair loose from the ponytail she’d been wearing. "This?" she waved at the pile of parts. "I know _exactly_ who you can talk to about this. At the scrap yard."  
  
Weiss scowled. "And just how much are you planning to charge us for this _wonderful_ bit of news?"  
  
Maple blanched slightly, then shook her head, her beaver tail beating rapidly against the back of her legs. "Nothing!" she replied quickly. "Nothing at all. Estimates are free for an… old friend like Blake."  
  
Weiss’s eyes widened slightly, and she hummed appreciatively. “That’s rather surprising. In fact, it might just be the best service I’ve ever gotten from a mechanic. You really do know some good people, Blake.”  
  
Both Blake and Maple smiled nervously. “Oh, you know me, always trying to meet the best of the best,” the raven-haired girl with the bow on her head chuckled. “Yang, what do you think?”  
  
Yang’s reply was a pair of ocular daggers directed at her teammates and a scowl that almost covered up the fresh tears in her eyes. “I think that this was an insulting waste of time.”  
  
"By the way," Weiss added to the mechanic as the blonde stormed out of the garage, slamming the door in Ruby's face, "do you have a business card? If I ever acquire a vehicle here in Vale, I'll want a good mechanic."  
  
“Yaaang…” moaned Ruby in sympathetic despair.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
"What is it, Rubes?" the blonde asked, not moving. She'd never before realized how fascinating the ceiling of their dorm room could be.  
  
"I baked cookies."  
  
Cookies? Ruby had cookies and wasn't eating them herself?  
  
She rolled over and sat up on the edge of her bed, letting her legs dangle down to where Blake's bed sat below. "Cookies? Really?" she asked, looking down to see her sister, oven mitts on, carrying a baking pan half-filled with fresh cookies. There were rather suspicious-looking crumbs on Ruby's face and the empty half of the pan.  
  
She cocked an eyebrow, and Ruby blushed.  
  
"Wellll…" Ruby hedged, then blurted out, "you still seemed so upset, and I figured cookies always make me feel better, but they smelled so good, and I kind of got hungry, and-"  
  
Yang couldn't help it. She laughed. That was _so_ Ruby.  
  
"All right, all right," she said, hopping down and grabbing a cookie. "You got me, sis."  
  
“I try my best,” Ruby said with a smile and a shrug as her sister bit into the cookie.  
  
Yang chewed the cookie appreciatively, stopped with almost wide eyes, and then continued before swallowing. “This is... almost like the cookies Mom used to make.”  
  
“Oh, no!” Ruby worried. “Did I make you sad again?”  
  
Yang shook her head with a forlorn smile. “No, Ruby, these are almost tears of joy.”  
  
The hooded girl's eyebrows rose. “Are you messing with me?” Before Yang could reply, though, Ruby continued, “Doesn’t matter! Because after this, we’re going therapy shopping!”  
  
“I don’t need therapy!” Yang countered hotly. “And I certainly don’t need it in the form of shopping!”  
  
“Yang,” Weiss cut in, breaking the silence she and Blake had held up till that point. “In Professor Port’s class today, you were asked, ‘What is best in life?’ And your reply was, ‘What is life but another form of death?’”  
  
“It didn’t even make grammatical sense!” Blake complained from directly behind the blonde girl. “Your answer did not follow from his question. That’s just nonsensical diction.”  
  
Yang quickly scarfed down the rest of her cookie before replying. “Okay, I admit, I might need a little bit of a pick-me-up.”  
  
Ruby grinned happily. “Don’t worry, Yang. Weiss will get you whatever you need.”  
  
“I’ll do what now?”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
"But you said you can afford it."  
  
"I can afford to _repair_ a bike, not buy a brand new one!"  
  
"Really, Ruby?" Yang asked flatly. "'Therapy shopping,' and you bring me to a car dealership?" She turned her head to give her sister a withering glare, then paused.  
  
"But Yaaang…" Ruby pleaded. There were times Yang wondered if her sister was actually secretly a faunus. This was one of them. Mostly because of the puppy dog eyes. She usually just chalked it up to Ruby learning from Zwei.  
  
"Ugh, fine," the blonde relented, then swept her gaze across the car lot toward the motorcycle section.  
  
Hmm. Cheap. Junk. Cheap junk. Overpriced. Too many miles. Junk. Faked to look good. Cheap. Cheap. Decent, but even _Weiss_ flinched at the price tag on that one.  
  
Yang found herself wandering from car to truck to motorcycle, but none of them caught her eye. None, that is, until her despondent gaze fell upon a car in the back. Upon sight of it, all her negativity flowed away. Glinting golden in the sun with black highlights that shone keenly in that same light, she found herself taken in by the wonderful angles and curves of the four-wheeled vehicle.  
  
With steps unthought of, she moved next to the object of her desire.  
  
“Yang?” asked Ruby expectantly. “Have you found one you like?”  
  
“Yeah,” answered Yang in a distant voice as she reached out and started to run her hand over the roof.  
  
"A car?" Ruby asked curiously. "Not another bike?"  
  
"Hey, we've got a team now, sis," Yang pointed out. "This way, I'll be able to drive all of us together. It’s only fair, since Weiss is bankrolling this."  
  
“Finally,” scoffed Weiss. “How much for this one, anyways?”  
  
“Doesn’t matter, I’m getting this,” was Yang’s immediate reply.  
  
“Shh!” hissed the heiress. “Don’t let the salesman hear that.”  
  
Blake cocked a small smile at the Schnee’s distress, but kept her focus on Yang. “So, what is it?”  
  
“It’s a Folkcar Bug. It’s an economy car that made in Atlas a few decades ago; it was designed to be small enough to fit into the narrow streets of the floating city and cheap enough that the people of Mantle would be able to buy it without selling their lives to the mining companies,” explained Yang as she kept her eyes on the vehicle.  
  
“That is a horrible stereotype!” complained Weiss. “I’ll have you know that Mantle is quite wealthy compared to kingdoms like Vacuo.”  
  
Ruby jumped in at that. “Weiss, even I know that’s a strawman argument. Vacuo doesn’t keep enough records to have a proper comparison to any other kingdom about anything.”  
  
“They do,” Blake told her succinctly.  
  
“What?! Since when?” asked Ruby hotly.  
  
“Apparently, since Yang started liking small cute things,” was the raven-haired girl’s quip.  
  
Ruby glanced over and saw Yang cooing over the tiny trunk. “Oh, that’s nothing,” the younger sibling said. “You should see her around our dog.”  
  
Blake’s eyes widened ever so slightly while Weiss made a quip of her own. “Well, at least it’s yellow. Have you thought of a name for it yet, Yang?”  
  
“Bumblebee II, of course. Or Bumblebee for short.”  
  
The eyes of all three of Yang’s teammates went wide, and they looked at each other in worry. As always, it was Ruby that broached the sensitive topic with her sister.  
  
“Uh, Yang, don’t you think that’s a little... unhealthy?”  
  
“No, why would you say that?”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“It’s just that you seem to be using your car as a replacement for genuine human interaction,” explained Pyrrha as she kept her eyes locked to the sky above.  
  
“Shouldn’t you be talking to another blond right now?” asked Yang as she reached her sponge into the soapy water of her bucket before leaning over Bumblebee’s hood in a manner that was unintentionally provocative.  
  
“Oh, lay off her; she’ll confront her painfully obvious feelings when she’s good and ready,” countered Nora to Pyrrha’s blushing shame. “She’s not the one leaning over a car in the parking lot in nothing but a bikini.”  
  
“I am being perfectly normal here,” Yang shot back. “After all, I don’t want to get my clothes wet, and there’s no way I’m wearing one of those weird corset things you girls wear.”  
  
“Hey!” Ruby spoke up from between the two JNPR members. “Corsets are awesome!”  
  
She crossed her arms in front of her, palms up, and then, in perfect synchronicity, Pyrrha and Nora brought their palms down to clap loudly against Ruby’s.  
  
Yang quirked an eyebrow at the trio’s actions. “Riiiiight. Listen, the swimsuit thing is just a matter of practicality. After all, I still need to do two more washes before I can get down to giving this boy a proper tune-up. I’m going to see him transform into something beautiful.”  
  
“I thought it was already beautiful?” Nora asked.  
  
“More beautiful, whatever. Point is that he’s getting some much needed TLC.”  
  
“He?” asked Ruby. “'Boy'?”  
  
Yang rolled her eyes. “It's a figure of speech, sis. Guys call their cars 'girls' and 'her' all the time. Same thing with boats. What's the big deal?"  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“The big deal is that you’re spending far too much time with that car, and not nearly enough time studying,” explained Weiss.  
  
“Oh, come on, Weiss. Haven’t you ever gotten something new that you can’t get out of your mind?” asked Yang as she finished putting on Ember Celica’s bracelets to complete the set of her town outfit.  
  
“No,” the Atlesian heiress replied simply. “I’ve never had a material possession bring me joy.”  
  
Blake looked up from her book at that. “That’s kind of sad.”  
  
Weiss rolled her eyes and focused back on Yang. “My own preferences for sources of elation aside, I hope you realize how frustrating it can be to see you going out for a night on the town of all things when we’re here reading up for Professor Port’s test tomorrow.”  
  
“Are we supposed to be doing that? I was reading comic books,” Ruby said from atop her bed.  
  
“Yeah, and I’m in the middle of a historical romance novel,” Blake admitted embarrassedly.  
  
Weiss valiantly kept her temper under control and flexed her hand threateningly.  
  
“Hey, don’t worry, guys,” chirped Yang. “Tell you what, after I get done warming Bumblebee’s rubber, I’ll lay off on it and devote myself to studying with the team.”  
  
“Promise?” asked Weiss.  
  
“Promise,” said Yang with a smile before walking for the door. “I should be back in a few hours, but don’t wait up for me if you have any plans.”  
  
“Bye, Yang!” said Ruby. “Have fun!”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“Oh, I’m having more fun than you can imagine, little sister!” Yang whooped from behind the wheel of Bumblebee as she drove along one of Vale’s famous raised highways, the open window allowing the wind to blow through her hair. It wasn't quite the same as on the old Bumblebee, but it was close.  
  
This, she reflected, was what she lived for: the open road, no direction planned, and adventure around every corner. It was pure bliss.  
  
“Hey, Bumblebee, what do you say we get into some illegal late night street racing?” asked Yang of her dashboard. Naturally, there was no reply. Nevertheless, she took the next exit and started the well known drive to some of Vale’s seedier sections.  
  
It was when she was driving close to a construction site closed for the night that it happened. Another car went speeding past her, and before she could formulate a non-instinctual response, a police car flew by at an even higher speed. The police vehicle hit the car at an angle, sending it spinning off into the construction site, where it hit a ridge, flipping end over end.  
  
Thought left her, and Bumblebee’s tires howled as she came to an abrupt stop by the dividing fence of the construction yard. In one swift motion, she shut the car down, pulled the keys, opened the door, and vaulted over the fence. She was running as soon as she hit the ground.  
  
She pounded across the gravel and came to a stop next to the upside down car. Inside was a collection of faunus of various ages and both sexes, all looking far worse for wear. They were clearly afraid, though it didn’t seem to be because of her.  
  
“Help us!” a middle-aged man cried. “I think the dust tank was hit! Please, we’re not criminals!”  
  
“Don’t worry,” Yang said calmly, reassuringly. “I’m here to help.”  
  
The door in front of her was stuck, and she raced around the car just as the police car from earlier pulled up. She looked up over the overturned vehicle, about ready to give the cop a piece of her mind; she knew she could be a bit reckless, but this was way too far.  
  
Her scathing remark died in her throat as the police car… _changed_.  
  
She found herself look up… and up… and up as it shifted its weight upwards and forwards, pieces of it splitting apart into limbs. _What_ is _that?_ she wondered. _Some sort of… Atlesian robot in disguise?_  
  
That didn't make any sense, though.  
  
Finally, it stood, towering over her, like a small building. And it _spoke_.  
  
"You really should have just kept going," it rumbled from a metal mouth set in a mechanical face all too human in appearance as it raised a gun as big as she was. "Sorry, kid. Nothing personal."  
  
The visible threat snapped her into action, and she snapped her arms down behind her, arming Ember Celica with a "ka-chunk!" She unloaded both barrels into the ground behind her and rode the recoil as she drew her fist back.  
  
BAM!  
  
Another round from Ember Celica fired as she drove the uppercut into the robot's chin, sending it stumbling back. She spread her arms out and twisted in mid-air. She fired again, away from the robot, the recoil propelling her other arm forward into a follow-up punch-shot. As the recoil from that shot sent her back into the air, she reset and fired, again and again, pelting the robot repeatedly.  
  
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!  
  
THWACK!  
  
Yang's body _hurt_ all over, as she suddenly found her trajectory rudely redirected by the back of the robot's hand. As she hit the ground, bouncing into an uncontrolled roll, she heaved and gasped for breath.  
  
She'd _never_ been hit that hard before.  
  
She shook her head, trying to clear it, as the robot walked up, seemingly unhurt by her assault. She was going to have to compliment Weiss on the superior Atlesian engineering.  
  
"That's far enough, Barricade!" another voice interjected as _something_ \-- that was _Bumblebee!_ \-- landed on the robot from behind, sending it face-first into the ground and bouncing off. Bumblebee landed and swerved to a stop beside her… and then he also began to change.  
  
…  
  
What the hell were they _doing_ up in Atlas these days?!  
  
"You okay, Yang?" the robot-that-was-Bumblebee asked, giving her a concerned look with a pair glowing blue eyes.  
  
"I dunno," she replied numbly. "I think I'm hallucinating."  
  
He nodded, then inclined his head to the side. "That- that's fair." He looked back over at -- Barricade, was it? -- and added, "’Scuse me." He charged.  
  
Barricade was just getting up when Bumblebee’s fist smashed into the hostile robot’s face. Yang shook her head again to clear it and forced herself to her feet. Maybe she was hallucinating, maybe she wasn't. Didn't matter.  
  
Bumblebee was twisted and thrown out of a grapple by the time she centered herself. Barricade was bringing his gun to bear on his downed opponent. He wouldn’t get the chance to fire.  
  
Firing off another pair of gravity dust rounds, she recoil boosted towards the fell automaton once more, but unlike before, she aimed for his gun. She hit feet first, and fired once more to trigger yet more recoil. The sudden double hit of force sent Barricade’s blaster off-target, and when it fired, it let out a bright burst of purple energy that gouged a glassy crater into the gravel underfoot ten feet deep and twenty across.  
  
Bumblebee was unharmed though, and even as Yang was sailing up into the air, he extended a large blade from his forearm. In response, Barricade reached for a neat stack of I-beams and hefted one experimentally.  
  
The two charged past each other this time, and as Barricade straightened, he glared at the much shorter length of metal in his hand.  
  
“Useless,” he growled, tossing it aside negligently, where it smashed into the cab of a crane, caving it in.  
  
Bumblebee took another swipe at Barricade, who blocked with his forearm. The blade seemed to bounce off an aura-like field with a shower of sparks, and the transformed police car bounced back to dodge another swipe. Then, with a sadistic grin, he aimed his gun at the construction site’s partially built skyscraper and fired three quick shots.  
  
The purple energy blasts connected with the structure and blew away its supports on one side. Ominously, the building began to collapse and topple onto one side, the same side where the car full of civilians was still overturned. Before Yang could even let out a cry, Bumblebee jumped in to shield the vehicle with his body as untold tons of material fell upon them.  
  
“Such heroic nonsense,” scoffed Barricade derisively.  
  
“You bastard!” bellowed Yang before launching a quartet of micro-missiles into the fiend’s upper back.  
  
Barricade grunted and turned to see the human girl flying towards him once more, and once more, he swept out his hand to knock her out of the air. This time, though, Yang fired her dual ranged shot gauntlets towards the sky with a pair of gravity rounds at the last possible second, sending her down and out of the way of the swipe. She hit the gravel and rolled between her opponent's legs at incredible speed before abruptly coming to a stop with her feet digging two small trenches to shadowbox out a pair of orange dust blasts.  
  
Before she could maneuver again, a blast from Barricade’s gun hit the ground behind her, sending Yang flying through the air to land on the ground in a heap where her aura started to flicker and pulse dangerously.  
  
“End of the line, insect,” sneered Barricade as he once more pointed his gun at her.  
  
However, before the massive weapon could fire, he was hit from the side by another blast, much larger than Yang’s. He turned and found Bumblebee now standing above the dusty ruins, worse for wear but with the car intact behind him in a clear area surrounded by a halo of rubble; his right arm had transformed into some kind of energy weapon. For the young human, that was a sight for sore eyes, one which was matched by what she believed to be Barricade’s aura flickering and breaking as well.  
  
He still looked ready to fight, but then the air was split by a loud truck horn of all things. Barricade’s face distorted into an expression of pure terror, and the horn sounded once more, echoing through the night. Their foe then broke just as his aura had, and he transformed back into a police car to roar away.  
  
A red, white, and blue tractor-trailer appeared at the edge of the site, and Barricade accelerated even faster. Before leaving entirely, however, he partially transformed and sent out one final energy blast towards the civilian car. Then, without Yang realizing what was even happening, the truck transformed into a giant robot of similar colors and jumped in front of the car, taking the brunt of the blast.  
  
A red pickup truck and a medical vehicle appeared on the edge as well, but by then, Barricade had well and truly fled.  
  
Yang shook her head. This was all too much for her to sort out right now, but there was one thing she was certain of. She bolted for the car full of faunus. They needed help, and she was a Huntress. Or would be, at least.  
  
As she helped the last of the faunus out of the car, the pickup truck and ambulance also changed shape, the pickup moving to -- stand guard? -- while the ambulance approached the red, white, and blue former tractor-trailer, who waved him -- it? -- off.  
  
What was the world coming to these days?  
  
"I'm fine, Ratchet," the former tractor-trailer rumbled. "Check on the civilians."  
  
"Of course, Prime," Ratchet said, turning toward the faunus. A wave of energy scanned the faunus, and he nodded. "Well, the good news is, no one's sporting any broken bones or ruptured organs, but beyond that, I'm still learning the details of your physiology. I recommend you seek professional medical advice immediately."  
  
"Uh, yes, sir, Mister Ratchet, sir," one of the faunus said.  
  
Meanwhile, Bumblebee walked up to Prime.  
  
"Hey, Optimus," he said..  
  
"Good work, B-127," was the big robot's reply. B-127? Was that his real name? Designation? Whatever?  
  
"Actually..." the yellow bot hedged, looking away briefly, before turning his gaze over to Yang, "...I'm kinda partial to 'Bumblebee' these days."  
  
Yang couldn't help but smile at that.  
  
"I see," acknowledged -- Prime? Optimus? -- with a nod. He followed Bumblebee's gaze. "And who might this be?"  
  
"This is Yang Xiao Long," Bumblebee replied. "She did a number on Barricade, helped me knock down his structural integrity field."  
  
Optimus turned and genuflected before her, looking her in the eyes. "Then you have my thanks, Miss Xiao Long, and I am pleased to meet you. Bumblebee is a close friend and a valued comrade. My name is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, and I'm sure you have many questions."  
  
"Just one, actually: What the hell is going on?!"  
  
"That," Optimus said, looking compassionately at the faunus, "is a question we were wondering ourselves."  
  
One faunus, male with bat ears, stepped forward and looked ready to say something, but glanced briefly at Yang with what looked like concern.  
  
“Don’t worry about me,” said the blonde. “I just want to know what’s going on.”  
  
Taking a moment to gather himself, the faunus said, "We're… escapees. From a dust facility up north."  
  
"'Escapees'?" Optimus asked.  
  
He glanced side to side furtively and said, "Yes. Look, we were desperate. The SDC came to Vacuo, offered us jobs, off the books, sure, but…" he trailed off, shaking his head. Squaring his shoulders, he continued, "When we got there, we were treated like slaves. Constant, backbreaking work, sixteen hours a day, barely enough food to get by. All to process dust into something they called… energon."  
  
Whatever "energon" was, it meant something to the Autobots, judging from the looks they exchanged.  
  
Before anyone could say any more, the sound of sirens echoed from the distance. The crunch of gravel startled Yang, and she looked over to see where the red pickup truck Autobot had set the faunus's car back on the ground upright.  
  
"We must be going," Optimus said as he rose to his feet.  
  
"But-" Yang broke off, unsure what she was about to say.  
  
"Go with Bumblebee," he said. "We'll talk more in a few cycles. Autobots, transform and roll out!"


	2. V1E2: Decisions

**Volume I: Episode 2: Decisions**  
  
* * * 

  
Yang felt her mind struggling to work as she sat in the driver’s seat of her new car and watched the city blur by. Watched the city, and watched the steering wheel in her hands move on its own. Despite where she was sitting, it was clear she wasn't actually in the driver's seat, and she briefly wondered if she ever was.  
  
"Yang? You all right?"  
  
She jolted in surprise and turned to look around before she caught herself. "I'm fine," came the automatic answer. "Just… fine."  
  
“Does that word have a different definition here in Vale? Because you don’t look or sound like any of the ones I’ve heard for fine,” said Bumblebee’s voice from the speakers. "And you're gripping my steering wheel awfully tight."  
  
“Look, this is just all a lot to take in!” said Yang as she forced her hands loose. “I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be taking in.”  
  
“Don’t worry," Bumblebee assured her. "I’m sure Optimus will be able to answer most of your questions when we meet up with him again.”   
  
That… wasn't particularly reassuring. “Most? Not all?”  
  
“Yang, I know this is all very confusing, but in a lot of ways... we’re just as lost as you are.”   
  
“That’s not comforting in the slightest, you know," she pointed out. "Who- what even _are_ you guys? What are you doing in Vale?”  
  
“It’s... a long story.”  
  
“How long?” Yang prodded.  
  
“Only about... ten million years or so, give or take however long we’ve been on this world.”  
  
“...”  
  
“Yang?” Bumblebee asked after a moment.  
  
“Yeah, I think waiting for Optimus’s explanation might be best,” she relented. "Just… one thing."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Why me?"  
  
“What do you mean?" Bumblebee asked, confused. "There’s a lot of ways that question could be answered.”  
  
“I mean, why were you in that car dealership?” clarified Yang.  
  
“Well, there’s a story there too, but the short of it is that I was hiding out, scouting, spying, and generally trying to keep a lookout for Decepticon activity. As well as any information about my current location, of course. I’ll tell you right now that those people who say Vale has no culture don’t know what they’re talking about.”  
  
“So it was just a coincidence then?”  
  
“I don’t know about that. I mean, that was all you jumping in to rescue those people tonight. What are the odds I would find someone like that on Remnant?"  
  
"Higher than you'd think. That dealership _is_ pretty close to Beacon, after all."  
  
"Maybe you're right, but somehow… I don't think so. I have a feeling there's a lot more to you than meets the eye."  
  
Yang felt a warm feeling stirring in her heart at those words. “Thanks, Bumblebee.”  
  
The cabin once again descended into silence, until the blonde decided to be the one to break it that time. “Soooo, Decepticons? I’m guessing they’re what that Barricade guy was? Did they choose that name for themselves, or…”  
  
“Believe it or not, yes," Bumblebee answered.  
  
“Wait, seriously?!” said Yang with a laugh.  
  
“You have to understand," Bumblebee elaborated, "I wasn't there myself -- it was before my time -- but things on Cybertron weren't perfect. Some people -- the ones who would become the Decepticons -- they thought they weren't being represented fairly, that our leaders were lying to the people to maintain power. Their rallying cry to the people was that they were being deceived."  
  
"So they took it as their name," Yang murmured softly, the explanation bringing eerie parallels to mind. "'Decepticons.' The deceived?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
After that, they lapsed into silence.  
  
It was a long couple of hours.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
They pulled up to an empty lot in an industrial district untold miles away from where they had started, stopping on the street outside.  
  
"You don't have to do this, you know," Bumblebee said. "We can still turn around. I can take you back to Beacon, and you can just forget about all of this, go on with your life."  
  
"Don't I?" Yang asked. "Could I? Won't Barricade come after me too?"  
  
"Probably not," Bumblebee answered. "One fight, in the dark, with you moving that fast? Humans and faunus aren't the first organic species we've met. You all tend to look alike to a Decepticon. Keep your head down, and he probably wouldn't recognize you if you met again."  
  
She thought about it. She really did. But…  
  
"I'm going to be a Huntress," she said. "I made that decision a long time ago."  
  
Bumblebee seemed to consider that. "Okay then." He drove on in, where the other Autobots awaited them.  
  
As they drove up, the other Autobots transformed into their robot modes. Bumblebee popped the door open and, after Yang took her cue to climb out, followed suit.  
  
"Greetings, Bumblebee, Miss Xiao Long," Optimus said. "You've already met Ratchet," he continued, tilting his head toward the mostly white ambulance Autobot. "He's our medic and technician, and this is Ironhide," he continued, gesturing to the red pickup truck Autobot.  
  
"Pleased ta meetcha," Ironhide said.  
  
"Uh, same here," Yang replied, looking back and forth between them "Is this… all of you?"  
  
"No," Optimus answered. "Most of our people on this world remain in stasis. Now, Miss Xiao Long, I'm sure you would like to know about us, but our story is a long one. Where would you like me to start?"  
  
"The beginning's usually a good place," she suggested. "Who are you? Where are you from? Bumblebee mentioned the Decepticons and Cybertron."  
  
"Cybertron is our homeworld," Optimus began. He dropped down to one knee and held up a hand. Light shone from his palm, and an image flickered to life above his hand of a mechanical sphere, brilliantly lit by the lights of an ecumenopolis, turning slowly. "Legend tells we were created by Primus, to be ruled by the Primes, but somewhere, we lost our way." The lights in the image grew dim, many of them winking out. "Our leaders grew corrupt and power-hungry and lost the blessing of Primus." At that, Yang could see the holographic planet go almost completely dark, lit only by fire and explosions, tiny in the image, but indicating a level of destruction on a scale she'd never imagined. "This led to a civil war that, as far as we know, continues to this day."  
  
"'As far you know'?"  
  
"We do not know how long we have been on this world," Optimus admitted. "We were seeking a refuge to regroup and rebuild our forces and resources with which to do so when were intercepted by a Decepticon ship. We were shot down and crash-landed on this world."  
  
"How do you not know how long you've been here?"  
  
"Because we have been in stasis for much of that time," he explained, "and the _Ark_ 's chronometer was damaged in the crash. We only awoke when our ship detected energon activity." He paused, then looked up at the night sky. "But I can tell you one thing. When we arrived on this world, the moon was whole."  
  
Yang's eyes widened at that. "You- do you know what happened to it?"  
  
"No," he said. "Our ship's sensors logged two major energy spikes, followed by a series of kinetic impacts on the planet. It is likely that that event is what happened to the moon, but that is all we know, and with our ship's chronometer offline, we do not even know when it happened."  
  
"What about Barricade? The Decepticons? What are _they_ doing here?"  
  
"We do not know for certain," was Optimus's answer. "We know we damaged the ship that attacked us, and it is possible it crashed as well. It is also possible they returned more recently and discovered this potential to process dust into energon."  
  
"'Energon'?"  
  
"Energon is the lifeblood of our people. It powers our weapons, our technology, our economies… our very lives."  
  
“And now the SDC is refining it from dust?” realized Yang. “Then that must mean that the Decepticons have… what? Formed an alliance or something? I don’t know. Why would they work together? What would they each get out of it?”  
  
"An alliance of convenience, perhaps," Optimus mused aloud. "Cybertronian technology has much to offer the people of Remnant, but it would be unusual for them to offer such an exchange. That they are working in secret, rather than seizing power for themselves by force, is… surprising. They believe that might makes right, in the rule of the strongest and the most cunning."  
  
"And what do you believe in?" Yang asked quietly, looking down in thought.  
  
"That freedom is the right of all sentient beings."  
  
A long moment of silence followed.  
  
"Okay, then," Yang said finally. She looked back up at him with conviction. "How can I help?"  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
Bumblebee’s headlights were off when they slowly creeped into Beacon’s parking lot; they had been off for the last five miles, Bumblebee instead relying on other sensors. Yang was silent when opening the doors in the building; a bottle of oil "borrowed" from the garage helped with that. So quiet was she that she was able to enter her dorm room without even hearing anything herself, and she was even able to do the same while getting dressed into her pajamas.  
  
 _I was able to get away scot-free!_ she thought joyously as she was about to climb into her top bunk.  
  
“And just where were you tonight, young lady?”  
  
Yang’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates when she turned around. Ruby was up, and she was sitting cross-legged on her suspended bed. She was obviously trying to glare down at Yang, but sleep deprivation turned it into more of a squint. Thinking quickly, the elder sister adopted her best ‘motherly’ tone.  
  
“I thought I told you not to wait up for me?” she said soothingly.  
  
“Answer the question, Yang. It’s four in the morning!” Ruby hissed.  
  
The blonde smiled sweetly and gently padded over to caress her sister's cheek. “I’ll explain later, Rubes. Right now, you need to get your beauty sleep. We’ve got a big day ahead of us when we wake up.”  
  
Unconsciously, the crimson-themed leader of Team RWBY allowed her sister to maneuver her so that she was close to lying down. “No, Yang, you need to explain yourself…”  
  
Ruby’s sentence died on her lips as she fell into blissful slumber the moment her head hit the pillow.  
  
Yang smiled at her younger sibling’s sleeping face and spoke softly while gently stroking her hair. “Everything I do, I do for you, Ruby. Even if I never tell you what it is.”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
As it turned out, they didn’t get much beauty sleep and almost missed their first class. Aside from that bumpy start, though, it was just another day at Beacon. For the most part.  
  
"So," Ruby asked as the team returned to their dorm after classes had concluded, "where _were_ you last night, Yang?"  
  
The blonde stopped short as the other three members of Team RWBY were now facing her expectantly. Her mind ran over all the incredible things that had happened on that fateful drive. She thought of all the revelations, and the promises made upon them. Things would never be the same after that night, but at the same time…   
  


> _“I ask that you keep our existence here a secret,” Optimus Prime requested. “In our current state, low on energon, our only defense is to remain unseen.”_

  
…she trusted Ruby implicitly, but she was still adjusting to Beacon and tended to be loose-lipped around her new friends, like Vomit Boy. Blake was almost a complete unknown even after a month. And Weiss… she glanced at the snowcapped girl. Weiss was a Schnee. Twenty-four hours ago, that wouldn't have mattered, but now...  
  
"I... ran into some people who needed help," she said finally.  
  
"Did everything work out all right?" Ruby asked, concern on her face.  
  
Yang thought back to the fight with Barricade and smiled faintly. "Yeah. Yeah, I think it did."  
  
"Yes!" her sister cheered, then spun, her cape swirling behind her, and grabbed a comic book on her way to her bed.  
  
"Okay, then," Blake said with a shrug, turning back to her book.  
  
“Wha-?” Weiss looked at Ruby, then Blake. "Are you two serious?!"  
  
"What?" Ruby asked. "We asked, Yang answered."  
  
"Yeah," Blake agreed, not even looking up from her book. "That's good enough for me."  
  
“But that’s… that’s… details!” stuttered Weiss. “I want details! You can’t just leave us with so little information!”  
  
Yang gave her a flat look. “No, you don’t. You think you do, but you don’t.”  
  
“Oh, yes, I do,” Weiss insisted. “I want to know what happened, why you were out until -- what was it, Ruby? Four in the morning? -- helping these people, who you helped, what you helped them with, all of it!"  
  
“Why?" Yang demanded. "Why do you need to know?”  
  
“I’m naturally curious!” the heiress justified, her eyes now blazing with blue fire. “And you can add, ‘why you're being so defensive’ to that list.”  
  
“Weiss, drop it,” Ruby ordered. “If Yang wants her privacy, let her keep it.”  
  
“Ruby, you’re our leader, and I respect you, but we can’t just let this go,” Weiss said in a conciliatory fashion. "This isn't just privacy; it's obvious she's _hiding_ something, something big."  
  
"Fine!" Yang snapped, her eyes flashing from their normal lilac to a bloody red. "You want to know? You _really_ want to know? It was a car full of faunus, refugees, _escaped slaves!_ From an SDC facility!"  
  
The air was split by the sound of paper tearing. Everyone glanced over and saw Blake staring at Yang, shaking with part of a page from her book in her hand. She seemed to regain control of herself quickly, though, and looked down, frowning at the sight of what she had done.  
  
"Oh," Weiss said softly. "That- that's-" She paused, then shook her head, staring at the floor. "I keep lowering my expectations of Father, and yet, he still continues to disappoint."  
  
"And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?" Yang snapped. "You don't even sound _surprised_."  
  
Weiss's head whipped up, and she glared back. "My _father_ is a disgrace to the family name. He took the company my grandfather founded and dragged it through the mud, all in the name of power and profit. I _absolutely_ believe he's amoral enough to do something like that. I just always thought he was at least smart enough -- or maybe cowardly enough -- not to do something this stupid. So, no, I suppose I'm not all that surprised." Her voice dropped low. "Just... one more thing I need to make up for."  
  
“'Just'?" Yang demanded incredulously. "You think _you_ can make up for _this?_ ”  
  
“Both of you, stop!” Ruby yelled, jumping between her two teammates in a flurry of rose petals. “We’re a team. We shouldn’t be fighting like this. Especially over something that no one here is responsible for.”  
  
Yang looked down at her little sister, blinked, and only then did her eyes finally return to their normal color. “Fine.” She walked over to a peg on the wall and picked up Bumblebee’s keys. “I’m going out to the store. Do you guys want anything?”   
  
Blake numbly shook her head, Weiss answered in the negative, and Ruby answered "Cookies!" Yang nodded, and then left them alone together.  
  
"Sooo, uh, that happened," Ruby broke the silence that followed. "Weiss, are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine!" she snapped, stalking back to collapse into her bed.  
  
“Oh, okay,” Ruby moaned, looked back over to the final member of her team. “Blake, are _you_ okay?”   
  
"Why are you asking me?" Blake deadpanned _mostly_ convincingly. "This didn't involve me at all."  
  
"Huh," Ruby mused. "Good point."  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“Rough day?” Bumblebee asked as they drove along into the city.  
  
“You could say that,” admitted Yang.  
  
Bumblebee was silent for a long moment, then asked, “So, where we headed?”  
  
“Shopping,” Yang answered, glad he had let the matter drop. “Ruby wants cookies, and I still need to get those dust samples and books for the others.”  
  
“And we can just go in and buy all that?” Bumblebee asked. “That’s it?”  
  
“That’s it,” replied Yang with a smile. “I’ve got enough lien here to cover everything we need and more, which is good because I’ll be blowing through this month's budget just on this.”  
  
“Is dust that expensive?”  
  
“Books are; heavy too. Though I have noticed dust prices going up the last few months...”  
  
“Market fluctuations?”  
  
“Maybe," Yang allowed with a shrug. "I'm not an economist."  
  
“Neither am I,” admitted Bumblebee. “I’m just a scout.”  
  
The pair rumbled along until they were well into the city, passing the dust shop closest to Beacon along the way. It had been discussed and decided that while buying from there was the cheapest and most convenient option, it was also the most likely to get the attention of her fellow students and thus, the grapevine. The last thing she needed was people wondering why Team RWBY’s bruiser was buying dust that never seemed to make it back to her dorm.  
  
When she did reach her preferred hit for this operation though, she found it to be in a most curious state.  
  
“Closed?!” Yang gaped, staring in disbelief at the locked door and the sign in its window. She looked closer and found a piece of paper taped to the inside with writing scrawled on it. In a steady, even voice, the blonde began to read aloud, “'Apologies for the inconvenience. Our store was recently robbed of most of our inventory. Fortunately, we expect to be able to restock shortly and will reopen soon. Thank you for your patience.'”  
  
Yang blinked and walked back to Bumblebee, more confused than anything. The pair went on to try and hit up another dust shop. This time, they found the police had cordoned off the area and were walking around doing whatever it was police did in situations like this. She didn’t say it out loud, but she was starting to get the feeling she should have taken up that CSI elective at the beginning of the semester.  
  
“Hello, boys!” she said with a a sway of her hips to the police officer nearest to the tape line. “What happened here?”   
  
The officer gave her the once over, noting her school uniform, before replying, “Beacon student, eh? Well, there’s not much to say here. Just another dust shop with its stocked cleaned out, but not a single cent taken from the register."  
  
“That’s strange,” observed Yang simply. “Have you got any suspects yet?”  
  
The officer chuckled. “Suspects? We got them coming out the ears, but no proof for anyone. Some say it’s the White Fang, some say it’s that Roman Torchwick guy, and others say the two are working together.”  
  
“And you?”  
  
The officer shrugged. “Personally? I think it’s the SDC. None of this dust is showing up on the black market, and stealing their own product to create an artificial shortage before selling it right back to people at a markup sounds exactly like the sort of thing they would do.”  
  
Yang couldn’t help but nod in agreement and wished the officer luck before departing. They still needed to get that dust, after all. Thefts or no thefts, there was still work to do.  
  
As luck would have it, things did work out. The first dust shop was closed, and the second dust shop was freshly broken into, but the third one? The third dust shop was just right.  
  
“Thanks a lot, man!” Yang cheered as the store attendant hefted a carrying case full of dust canisters into the trunk of Bumblebee.  
  
“No problem, miss. It’s so nice to see a student from Beacon taking an interest in exploring different dust types,” the clerk said as he finished securing the last crate. "Too many Huntsmen rely on just one or two tricks these days."  
  
“Well,” she said with a wide smile, "I do like to keep my options open."  
  
When payments were settled and Yang was driving off, her eyes glanced up at the rear view mirror, and she unconsciously let off the accelerator.   
  
“Something wrong, Yang?”   
  
“Oh, nothing, just had a sudden thought: ‘What happens when you slam a canister of gravity dust and a canister of hard light dust together over a canister of fire dust?’”  
  
Bumblebee drove that much straighter after that. “Let’s not find out, shall we?”   
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
The sun was starting to set by the time they reached the slopes of Lookout Mountain. The place had a fantastic view of Vale and used to be _the_ getaway for people wanting a little outdoor privacy, but a Nevermore attack about ten years ago had sent its popularity plummeting, even after the additional automated anti-air turrets on the cliff face were completed.  
  
There was little risk of being interrupted here. Which was why, of course, they had decided on this spot as the rendezvous point for Yang to meet her Autobot contacts. It was a decision born out of secrecy and time constraints, but she had to admit that she didn’t mind that much.  
  
The Autobots respected her privacy, so she would respect theirs.  
  
When they pulled into the parking spot, they found it occupied by Ratchet and Optimus Prime in their vehicle modes alongside a transport trailer. When Bumblebee approached, the two transformed into their robot forms. Yang, for her part, wasn’t sure she would ever get used to that, and she really didn’t want to.  
  
Seeing something so wondrous should never become boring.  
  
It was Ratchet that spoke first when Yang stepped out of Bumblebee.   
  
“Do you have it?” he asked. “Do you have the dust?”   
  
“Yep!” cheered the blonde as she opened up the trunk and began extracting the cases. “One canister of every kind of dust they had in stock, including hard light, and a basic primer. I also got some medical texts for you, Ratchet, history books for Optimus, and the most recent edition of The Atlas Atlas of Atlas Armaments from Atlas Publishing for Ironhide.”  
  
"Thank you," Ratchet said as he and Yang began transferring the dust from Bumblebee's trunk to the trailer.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Yang replied. "Took a bit to find a dust store that hadn't been robbed, but other than that, it's no problem at all."  
  
"Didn't you say you blew your monthly budget on this?" Bumblebee asked.  
  
With a faint clank, Optimus lowered himself to one knee, much like he had the other night, and gently placed his steel fingers on her shoulder. "We appreciate your sacrifice, Miss Xiao Long. If there is anything we can do-"  
  
Shrugging away from his hand in a sudden attack of shyness, she interrupted, "Well, for starters, you can call me Yang."  
  
"Excuse me," Ratchet interjected. "What was that about robberies?"  
  
Yang pulled out her scroll and pulled up a list of news articles. "Yeah. Apparently, there's been a rash of them over the last month or so. What's weird is whoever's doing it isn't taking any of the money, or selling the dust on the black market."  
  
"You know, I've been thinking about that," Bumblebee said. "About what that one officer said. He might only be half-right. The _Decepticons_ would have no use for money, after all, and the SDC -- if it really is them -- did try to keep things off the books. This way, there'd be no missing supply."  
  
“No missing supply, no way to trace things back to their energon processing plant,” Ratchet realized.  
  
“Except now we have a lead,” said Optimus.   
  
“I have a few contacts on the fringe. I could try hitting them up, see if anything’s been going on there,” spoke up Yang. “Heck, maybe I could try to find those escapees again, see if I can get any more information that could lead us to narrowing down the plant’s location.”  
  
"It would be best, I think, to leave the escapees be unless absolutely necessary," Optimus said. "They've been through enough. But your other contacts might prove fruitful."  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
When Yang got back that night, it was still early enough that everyone was still wide awake. They looked up from their interests and looked at her when she walked through the door. Once again, she felt like the center of attention.  
  
She held out a bag toward her sister. "Your cookies, sis."  
  
Yoink!  
  
"Omnomnomnom..."  
  
With that, the blonde turned to the white-haired heiress. "Weiss… I'm sorry. For… what I said earlier, I mean. Just because your name's in the company name doesn't mean you're responsible for everything it's accused of."  
  
Weiss stood up and faced her. "Apology accepted, Yang." She looked aside. "And while you're right, I'm _not_ responsible for my family's company… some day, I will be."  
  
" _Weiss_..." Ruby prodded. The rest of the team blinked over at their team leader… who had obviously just finished her bag of cookies. Completely.  
  
" _And_ ," Weiss added, "I would like to... apologize for poking into your private business. If… there's anything we can do to help...?"  
  
"Thanks, but… what could anyone do against something as powerful as the SDC? Punch them in the face? They don’t have a face to punch. Well, unless we count yours, and fat lot of good _that_ would do.."  
  
Weiss bristled at Yang’s words. “I could do some digging, then use my position…”  
  
“...to lose your title as heiress because clearly you’ve been under far too much stress if you think the SDC is running slave labor camps,” the blonde finished for her. “Please, Weiss, I don’t want wake up one day to a news article about how you’ve ‘voluntarily’ given up your position just before they fish your body out of the ocean.”  
  
The snowcapped girl paled to a degree upon hearing those words. “Father would never-" she cut herself off. "But I’ve said those words before, haven't I? And there are alternatives to that which get the same results.”  
  
Seeing Weiss clutch her chin nervously, Ruby decided it was time to interject, “I don’t believe in a no-win scenario, Yang. The situation might seem hopeless, but I know that’s only an illusion. That if we combine our resources, then I’m sure we can come up with a solution to this problem, or find someone who can.”  
  
Yang smiled sadly at her sister. “The SDC is far too strong for any individual to go against, and I don’t think there’s an organization out there that’s willing to go to bat against them with these stakes on the line.”  
  
Ruby felt -- and her sister could see -- her expression harden like steel. “Professor Ozpin could. He could take on the SDC all by himself, and get others to as well.”  
  
“That…” Yang paused, feeling her mouth go dry in sudden realization, “...could work. He would need evidence, though, and I don’t think that we can just go and find those escapees again. So we’re going to have to wait until more show up.”  
  
“Then we’ll wait, and we’ll watch,” was the resolute vow of Team RWBY’s leader.  
  
“You’re willing to wait?” Yang asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Why is that so hard to believe? I’m a sniper, Yang! I’ve spent days waiting for the perfect shot before.”  
  
The other eyebrow went up.  
  
“Hours?”  
  
Yang crossed her arms.  
  
“Oh, okay! Minutes! I’ve waited minutes for the perfect shot! That doesn’t discount what I’m saying here. I’m willing to wait, think up alternate solutions, and not run off half-cocked. Is that what you want to hear?”  
  
“That is exactly what I want to hear, Ruby. Now, if you'll excuse me, I’ve got to wash up and use the little girl’s room. I’ve been wearing this uniform for so long, it’s starting to ride up on me.”  
  
The rest of Team RWBY waited until they heard Yang stepping into a running shower before they all rushed into a group huddle, their faces almost touching.  
  
“Okay, so we’re all in agreement?" Ruby whispered. "We keep Yang out of the loop so she doesn’t worry?”  
  
Weiss and Blake both nodded.


	3. V1E3: Through the Looking Glass

**Volume I: Episode 3: Through the Looking Glass**  
  
* * * 

  
Ruby smiled thinly as Yang walked off to the cafeteria and out of their room. She turned to the rest of her team with eyes bright. They had expressions that were decidedly more somber, but still hopeful.  
  
“Now that the Debbie Downer is out of the way, let’s get down to business,” Ruby said chipperly. “What have we got?”  
  
Weiss stiffened slightly in attention. “I’ve got some pull at the SDC still, and it’s at least enough to get some data. I can go to the library, make a call to SDC headquarters in Atlas, and spend the rest of the day analyzing the data.”  
  
Blake spoke next. “I know some people who work with charities that help faunus in need. They’re very discreet in what they do, so it’s possible the escapees went there. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to get, but it’s a start.”  
  
“Who’s this contact?” Weiss asked curiously.  
  
Ruby facepalmed. “Oh my goodness, Weiss. Seriously?”  
  
“No, no, it’s okay,” Blake said disarmingly, noticing Weiss’s blush of shame. “He’s just a bookstore owner. Nothing special.”  
  
“Wait, bookstore owner?” Ruby said excitedly. “You’re going to a bookstore?!”  
  
“Umm, yes?” Blake admitted.  
  
“That’s fantastic! I’ll go with you then!” Ruby cheered. “That sounds much more useful than what I was planning, and much more exciting than staying with Weiss.”  
  
“I’m right here, you know,” Weiss reminded her leader sourly.  
  
“Oh, I know you are, Weiss. I’m not totally blind yet,” the crimson-hued teen replied with a wave of her hand before reaching out to grab Blake’s hand tightly. “Come on, Backup Bestie, the gateway of reading awaits!”  
  
With that Ruby dragged the protesting loner from the room, leaving Weiss in the position of going solo.  
  
“Well, I suppose I dodged a bullet there,” she said to herself.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
Weiss walked through the library as casually as she could. She wasn’t in enemy territory, there wasn’t any need to go and cause a stir. She was just a perfectly normal girl making a perfectly normal call to the perfectly normal place that she’ll one day inherit like any other perfectly normal person. As opposed to being fished out the water after a tragic accident.  
  
_Damn it, Yang!_  
  
To her credit, she managed to get to the edge of the computer room before someone noticed.  
  
“Hey, Weiss,” came the accented voice of one the school’s wunderkinds.  
  
Weiss gave a little jump and spun around to face Velvet Scarlatina. Realizing that this could look bad, she thought quickly and deployed countermeasures to keep cool. She stuck out an arm, leaned against the wall, crossed her legs, and cocked a smirk straight out of an old movie. Brilliant, the second year student wouldn’t suspect a thing.  
  
“Hey, how you doing?” asked the white-haired girl coolly.  
  
Velvet’s eyebrows rose ever so slightly at the display. “Are you all right, Weiss?”  
  
Weiss scoffed. “Of course I’m all right. Why wouldn’t I be all right?”  
  
“It’s just that you were walking almost _painfully_ casually there,” the rabbit-eared faunus pointed out. “People who walk _that_ casually usually have something they want to hide."  
  
“What?! What do you mean? I’m not hiding anything,” Weiss insisted. She huffed and crossed her arms. “I don't know what you're talking about.”  
  
Velvet raised a single eyebrow, but backed off. “Oookay, if that’s the way things are. Stay safe, Weiss.”  
  
The white-haired girl let out a gasp when she was sure Velvet was gone. That was insane! What was she thinking? Walking casually? It was absurd.  
  
Her fear overridden by embarrassment, Weiss shuffled toward one of the computers and plopped down unceremoniously into a seat. By the time she was able to get a call going to SDC HQ, she had managed to get her emotions mostly under control and don a mask of propriety. Whatever else people might see, they wouldn’t see her making a fool of herself… anymore.  
  
The screen changed to show a young woman with neck-length auburn hair. Smiling and youthful, she made the perfect greeter for the Atlesian expats in the SDC calling home. More importantly, she had the security clearance to get Weiss most of the information she needed or wanted.  
  
“Thank you for calling the Atlas- Oh! Miss Schnee! Good afternoon! Would you like me to patch you through to your father? I think your sister Winter might be here as well.”  
  
Weiss smiled pleasantly. “No, thank you! I was actually wondering if you could find some files for me. I've compiled a short list.”  
  
Weiss drew her scroll out of her pocket and placed it into a data retrieval slot on the keyboard in front of her. There was a beeping noise, and the woman on the other end looked down at her screen. There was a beat, and the heiress could feel a bead of sweat forming on the back of her neck.  
  
“I see,” she said, clearly suspicious. “If you don't mind... what may I ask is this for?”  
  
Weiss’s reply was calm and level, but she could feel her heart pounding inside her ears. “School project.”  
  
The woman’s voice was nervous, as if there was someone looking over her shoulder. “Um... there are some sensitive documents on this list, ma'am.”  
  
“Well, then, I'll be sure to treat them with care.”  
  
“Ma’am, you don’t understand,” the woman explained seriously. “There’s been some recent updates in SDC data security policy. I _can’t_ send you those files. Not to an unsecured terminal.”  
  
Now Weiss could definitely feel her jacket clinging to her sweaty back. “What?”  
  
“I’m sorry!” she apologized. “But this is out of my hands. You should be able to access these files at the regional office in Vale, however.”  
  
“That’s good to know,” said Weiss appreciatively, even if on the inside, she was screaming at having to keep up this act in person. There was a _reason_ she'd chosen to make the call all the way to Atlas instead of visiting the Vale headquarters.  
  
“I can at least send the unclassified files you requested to your scroll, though,” the woman offered in compensation.  
  
There was a series of beeps, and she made good on her word.  
  
“Wonderful! That will be all, then.”  
  
“Are you sure you wouldn't like me to patch you through to your father before you go?” the woman offered, clearly trying to be helpful.  
  
Weiss felt the mask slip for a moment, but recovered. “Yes, I'm sure.”  
  
The woman was all smiles after that. “Well, then, have a nice day!”  
  
The call ended, and Weiss felt the sweat finally break out on her face. She took the scroll from the uplink station and accessed her contacts. She heard the dial tone go, and she was already striding up and out of the door.  
  
There was a click on the other end, and the call came through.  
  
_“Weiss?”_  
  
“Ruby, we’ve got a complication.”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“What kind of complication, Weiss?” asked Ruby as she walked next to Blake down the stone sidewalks of Vale.  
  
_“They’ve gone and tightened data security at the SDC. I'll have to go to the regional office here in Vale to access some of the files we need,”_ Weiss explained desperately.  
  
“Whoa, wait a second, Weiss. Do we really need those files?” Ruby asked, glancing over at Blake who was looking back at her in concern.  
  
_“Yes, Ruby. I just said that,”_ the heiress repeated. _“I’m en route to your location now.”_  
  
“Weiss, wait…”  
  
_“We’ll talk later, Ruby. It’s not safe here.”_  
  
There was a click, and Ruby looked at her scroll in confusion and concern. She looked up and saw the expression mirrored on Blake’s face. The raven-haired girl offered a comforting smile to her leader.  
  
“I’m sure she has a good reason. In the meantime…” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the shop they were standing outside of, “do you want to stand guard out here or go inside?”  
  
Ruby looked around the street and rooftops before replying. “Inside. It’s better if we stick together.”  
  
Blake nodded, and the two entered Tukson’s Book Trade together.  
  
The burly, dark-haired man behind the counter greeted them with an easy smile. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite customer. I haven't seen you here in a while, Blake."  
  
"Hello, Tukson," Blake returned the greeting with a small wave.  
  
"Hi!" Ruby gave a big wave.  
  
Blake rubbed her forehead and sighed. "This is my teammate, Ruby. Ruby, Tukson."  
  
"Please to-"  
  
A breeze passed over the both of them as Ruby dashed past.  
  
"OMIGOSH! You have _The Grimm's Tooth_! I've been looking for _ever_ for a copy!" Her head whipped around. "Ooh! Is that-? It is!"  
  
"She'll… probably be like this for a while," Blake warned. She tilted her head. "Can we talk?"  
  
“What about, Blake?” he asked. “Somehow I doubt you’re here to talk about the breakup.”  
  
Blake rolled her eyes. “I am so over him, so no, I'm not here to talk about that. And I really don’t want to rehash office politics.”  
  
Tukson chuckled nervously. “Hey, no argument here.”  
  
Blake smiled. “Good. What I am here for is to do a little follow up for a friend. She helped out a group of faunus from out of town the other night, and I was wondering if the charity had helped them afterwards.”  
  
He inclined his head. "I heard about that. Yeah, rough business."  
  
"What can you tell me about it?"  
  
Tukson glanced around, confirming that the three of them were the only ones in the shop, then leaned on the counter, his voice low. "Word is, they were escapees from some SDC dust refinery up north, outside the city walls. The whole thing's hitting Adam pretty hard; no telling what he's going to do."  
  
Blake looked away. "I don't like the sound of that."  
  
"Neither do I," Tukson agreed. "With the new management after you left, he's been getting pretty short-tempered. Shorter-tempered, I mean."  
  
Blake's gaze snapped back to meet Tukson's eyes. "'New management'?" she asked. "What new management?"  
  
"You hadn't heard?" he asked, surprised. "Some lady came in just before you left and made an offer. Adam declined. A while later, she came back and… cleaned house. A lot of folks got retired. After that, well, he couldn't exactly say no. None of us could."  
  
“I… I’m sorry. I should have been there,” Blake said, lowering her eyes.  
  
"Don't blame yourself, Blake," he said. "You did the smart thing and got out when you could. Besides, I don't think it would have mattered much. She's… terrifying."  
  
“'Terrifying'?” Blake asked.  
  
“Terrifying,” Tukson repeated.  
  
“She sounds like that one professor at Signal my dad used to complain about,” Ruby put in as her eyes darted between two books in her hands. “I think she got fired after him and my Uncle Qrow concocted an elaborate scheme.”  
  
A sad smile graced Blake’s lips. “I don’t think that would work here, Ruby.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re right,” Ruby admitted. “The last thing we need is the police coming after us for attempted murder.”  
  
Blake and Tukson’s eyes widened at that, and they silently agreed not to press her on it.  
  
“So, the escapees. Anything else you can tell us?” Blake repeated.  
  
Tukson shook his head. “No. To be frank, I wouldn’t trust any of the stuff they’re saying right now. They’ve clearly been through a lot, got the scars to show for it, and they’re talking a little crazy. I’m only hearing it secondhand, but some of this stuff is just insane.”  
  
Any further discussion was interrupted by the door chime ringing as the front door burst open to allow Weiss in. The snowcapped heiress stalled at the front of the store and bent over, hands on her knees, breathing hard.  
  
"Weiss!" Ruby rushed up in concern. "Are you-?"  
  
Weiss silenced her with a raised hand, then lifted a single index finger as she caught her breath.  
  
Blake blinked. "Did you… run here all the way from Beacon?"  
  
Straightening up, Weiss scoffed primly. "Don't be ridiculous, Blake. I took an airship. And then I ran."  
  
"Weiss!" Ruby gushed. "This place is so amazing! They have _so many_ books! They have _Violet's Garden_! In hardcover, even! And I never thought I'd ever see a real copy of _The Grimm's Tooth_! There are books here I've never even heard of! They've even got a lot of those nerdy science books you like!"  
  
"Some... _interesting_ company you keep these days, Blake," Tukson murmured, his voice a little strained.  
  
"You have no idea," Blake whispered back.  
  
"Well," Weiss said thoughtfully as she took a moment to scan the selection available. "I'm impressed, Blake. You really do know the best people in town."  
  
"Yeah," Blake deadpanned. "The best."  
  
Weiss gave Tukson a beaming smile. "I'll have to come back some time and browse your selection more thoroughly later."  
  
"Anytime," Tukson said, his face locked into a rictus grin.  
  
"Unfortunately," Weiss continued, "we have urgent business elsewhere."  
  
"Of course," he said as the heiress led the other two girls out the door. Just as Blake was about to step outside, he called out, “By the way, Blake?"  
  
Blake paused in the doorway and looked back. "Yes?"  
  
"Tell your friend she did good.”  
  
She gave a small smile. "I'll do that."  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“Are you sure?” asked Bumblebee. “I mean, I can help.”  
  
“Not in a way that leaves you hidden,” reasoned Yang as she double-checked Ember Celica’s ammunition while sitting in the driver’s seat.  
  
“Oh, come on, who would believe a bunch of criminals saying they got their club wrecked by a Cybertronian?”  
  
“Okay. One, they wouldn’t call you that. Two, the Decepticons would, and they’re the very people we’re trying to avoid. And three, have you seen some of the stuff they make up in Atlas these days?" the blonde pointed out, flashing back to those many occasions where she had to talk Ruby down from one of her insane ideas.  
  
“And how do we know the 'Cons haven’t already laid a trap for anyone who comes snooping around?” pointed out Bumblebee.  
  
“Hey,” Yang replied with a cocky grin, “this is me we’re talking about. I can handle anything this club can throw at me. After all, I've done it before.”  
  
She got out, and as she was walking away, she could just barely hear the Autobot mumbling something about her being a cocky hothead. She thought that was a little unfair, though. After all, they hadn’t known each other for that long, and in this instance, she was just being a flat out hypocrite, not that she needed Bumblebee to know that.  
  
She could already see the black-suited men of the Xiong family fleeing before her. They cowered and hid behind their dwelling’s doors, no doubt trying to mount some kind of defense. She would not falter in the face of such paltry resistance, and neither would her fists.  
  
The doors exploded open, and she sashayed into the room. “Hello, boys!” she called out in a mirthful voice. “Guess who’s _back!_ "  
  
The only reply she recieved was a very large collection of guns thrust in her face. Her expression became very cold and hard at the sight of them. In the background, the music that had been playing stopped.  
  
She could see the form of Hei “Junior” Xiong, the owner of the nightclub and its attached criminal element, towering over his men. Clearly seeking to avoid a conflict, he walked up to the small crowd that was forming. Whether or not he would be successful in that request depended a great deal on what he would tell her in the next few minutes.  
  
"Stop, stop!" he said, shouldering his way through his men. "Nobody shoot." He paused to straighten his tie. "Blondie, you're here! _Why?_  
  
" _You_ still owe me a drink," Yang replied, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to the bar.  
  
He sighed and waved the bartender over. "Fine."  
  
Yang stared at the drink in her hands.  
  
"So, why are you really here, Blondie?" Junior asked, finally. "You've been staring at that drink for five minutes and haven't even taken a sip."  
  
"Dust robberies," she said, looking up. "Tell me about them."  
  
" _That's_ what this is about?" he asked, surprised. "Guy you're looking for is Torchwick, Roman Torchwick. In fact, he borrowed a few of my guys the night you first dropped by, paid up front, and I haven't seen him -- or them -- since." He snorted. "I guess he wasn't happy with them, which is _something I can relate to!_ " he added, pitching his voice up meaningfully.  
  
Everyone studiously ignored the pointed complaint.  
  
"Hmm," she hmmed. "All right. And let's say someone might be interested in getting into that _particular_ business…?"  
  
Junior raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Dust theft isn't dust science, Blondie, and besides, I somehow didn't figure you for the thieving type."  
  
"Wouldn't want to step on any toes," she said, "and maybe I want to broaden my horizons." She cocked her head. "See if you can put the word out. I'd like to at least meet the man. See what his game plan is that it involves leaving all the lien behind."  
  
Junior cocked a smirk at that. “Okay then. Got to admit, I’m a little curious what the deal is with that too.”  
  
Yang smile got that much wider even as she brought out a piece of paper with a series of numbers scrawled across it. “Pleasure doing business with you. Call me on this number when someone starts biting.”  
  
She handed the paper off to Junior, who took it in good cheer. Yang then took a hearty pull from her drink until it was gone, then slapped some lien cards on the table before walking away.  
  
“Thanks for the drink, by the way. It was good.”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“No, this is bad. This is very bad,” Weiss said emphatically to the rest of her team as they huddled together in the obscure and dirty back alley.  
  
“What Yang said has got you really freaked out, hasn’t it?” observed Blake.  
  
“Yes!” hissed Weiss. “It has because she’s right! I couldn’t stop thinking about what she said, but I thought it was just nerves. Then I found out about the new security procedures, and then you confirmed what Yang said, and…" She took a deep breath and looked at their team leader. "We are through the looking glass, Ruby.”  
  
The crimson-cloaked girl put her hands on Weiss’s shoulders. “Relax, you’re not the first princess to have an evil father.”  
  
“Please don’t call me that,” the heiress said through vision narrowed like an icy crevasse. “I’m the granddaughter of a miner.”  
  
“Irregardless,” Ruby continued with closed eyes, ignoring the others blanching at her butchery of the language. “They might not hand over what we need, or might just hand over some fakes, but I’ve been thinking about this and I may have us a plan to get a look at the documents we need."  
  
“Well, let’s hear it,” said Blake.  
  
"First, Blake, how are you at dealing with security systems?" Ruby asked. "Like, locks and stuff?"  
  
"Good enough," was the reply. "It wouldn't be the first time I've bypassed Atlas security."  
  
Weiss squinted at her, then smirked. "You rebel you."  
  
"Yeah, sure," Blake replied. _Let's go with that._  
  
Half an hour later. Weiss was walking up to the towering headquarters to the Vale branch of the SDC with a powerful stride and a confident smile. She didn’t just make an impression on the door guards, she owned them. Which, they knew, would someday be accurate in all but name.  
  


> _"First, Weiss is our point woman on this. She’ll act like everything is normal and put in the data request. They already know you want it, after all, but remember, you’re the heiress; act like it."_

  
"Miss Schnee," the receptionist greeted as she walked up to the front desk "How may I assist you today?"  
  
"I need to access some data," Weiss said, oozing haughty annoyance. " _Someone_ told me I couldn't simply have it transferred to me at Beacon, so here I am, taking time out of my day to get it. In person."  
  


> _"And that's when I take the shot!"_
> 
> _"Excuse me! Are you sure this isn't just an excuse for you to shoot at me?"_
> 
> _"Trust me!"_

  
Crack! Crack!  
  
Crack!  
  
Two lightning dust rounds slammed into the AK-130s flanking the front door, causing them to collapse. The third round spider-webbed the bullet-resistant glass that formed the lobby's outer wall.  
  
To their credit, the SDC security personnel reacted almost immediately.  
  
"SNIPER!" someone called; Weiss wasn't sure who.  
  
Eyes wide, the receptionist in front of Weiss ducked, her hand darting forward to the underside of her desk, triggering the silent alarm. Two guards flanking the elevator behind her rushed forward, weapons drawn, scanning for threats. Another guard dashed forward and tackled Weiss herself to the floor -- and nearly got an elbow to the face for his trouble, but Weiss was able to restrain herself at the last second -- out of direct line of fire from the front door.  
  
Instead, she shrieked, making her voice as shrill as possible. "What is the meaning of this?! Unhand me, you buffoon!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Miss Schnee," the guard apologized, "but your safety must come first. He activated a short-range radio attached to his lapel. "All points, VIP taking sniper fire in the lobby! All units converge!"  
  
Well, at least that was going according to plan.  
  


> _"And when the security scrambles to protect the heiress, that should leave the upper levels clear for Blake to get in!"_

  
_Why am I the one stuck climbing through ventilation ducts?_ Blake wondered as she slipped through the building's ventilation system. The rooftop lock had been simple enough to bypass, even with the lockdown.  
  
She had more experience with SDC security when it was under lockdown than not, after all.  
  
Navigating through the network of air ducts was a little tricky, and she'd had to take time to reorient herself twice already. While she could, theoretically, just drop down wherever and navigate normally, that would leave more evidence of her presence.  
  
Bad idea, that.  
  
It would have been much easier if she was looking for the regional vice president's office. He would obviously have whatever they were looking for, and he had an open air balcony connected to his office, but he was also too obvious a target, and the security would be all but impenetrable without leaving traces. But the regional operations executive should have the info they needed too, under much less security.  
  
Peering through the vent at what she hoped was the right door, she frowned. The security might be less, but apparently, it still warranted a live guard, one who was currently arguing with someone over the radio; from this far away, even Blake's sensitive ears could barely catch what the other person was saying.  
  
"But we have orders to never leave his office unguarded, even in an emergency!"  
  
_"I don't care what your orders are!"_ the voice on the other hand snarled. _"It's the_ heiress _under fire here. The only person in this company who outranks her is Jacques Schnee himself! So get your ass down here_ now!"  
  
"Yes, sir!"  
  
Blake let out a small sigh of relief and prepared to move. It looked like Ruby's plan was working.  
  
Outside, Ruby was wondering if, perhaps, her plan was working a little too well. It wasn't that hard to stay ahead of the pursuit, not with her semblance and Crescent Rose providing her with a mobility and verticality the SDC guards couldn't match.  
  
The Gong MV-27 Bullhead air transport that pulled up in front of her from between the building she was on and the building she was just about to leap to, however…  
  
Oh, and it had a heavy machine gun.  
  
Any hope that they would not fire on her in the middle of a city with so much civilian infrastructure around was cut off by the flash of the chin-mounted M577’s .67 barrel. Ruby was moving before the pilot had pulled the trigger, and in a blur of rose petals, she was over the roof of the building. Even going off to the tiltjet’s side, however, she found that she was not out of danger yet, for the passenger compartment was open with many men visible inside. One man in each side door was operating an SA-89 general purpose machine gun mounted to the craft itself and chambered for the -- far more reasonable in her opinion, but still exceedingly powerful -- .35 Schnee cartridge.  
  
If she got out of this alive, she would have to compliment the SDC security guards on their commitment to the theme they had going.  
  
Before the side gun could open up on her, Ruby used her semblance to dash deeper into the alleyways, though still far above the ground. From there, she began to leap from wallface to wallface, trying her best to utilize her semblance as little as possible. It might offer her a great deal of speed in a pinch, but she needed every tiny piece of her aura she could muster to deflect and absorb fire from her pursuers.  
  
Staying low enough and close enough underneath the Bullhead kept her out of the side guns' field of fire, but the nose gun boasted a much more generous maximum depression, so while the VTOL turned to bring the heavier gun to bear, she took the opportunity to go round a corner and down another alley, breaking line of sight.  
  
The timing was lucky too, as he scroll chimed. A quick glance confirmed it was the innocuous text message she'd been expecting.  
  
_Right. Time for the final phase._  
  
Double checking to make sure the Bullhead hadn't caught up, she dropped down to ground level and pivoted on a direct course for the SDC building. _Through_ the building that was in the way, dodging confused office workers and pedestrians as she blazed through the building.  
  
Emerging across from the SDC building, she barreled toward the guards clustered at the entrance. She had to get close to keep the Bullhead from firing on her.  
  
Armed with guns and stun batons, the SDC guards were well-trained, well-equipped, and hopelessly outmatched by the fifteen-year-old Huntress-in-training.  
  
As she charged toward them, she pulled Crescent Rose out again, unfolding it into scythe mode, but with the blade still aligned with the shaft. Shifting her grip, she swung the back end of the blade, batting the first guard out of the way, twirling her beloved Crescent Rose to smash the butt of the shaft into another's face before activating her semblance to dodge the gunfire from the first three guards to react. Reappearing behind them, she swatted one across the back of the head, hooked another's leg out from under him, and rammed the butt into the third's back.  
  
She spun Crescent Rose with a triumphant flourish to once more face the SDC building and whatever obstacle awaited her next-  
  
"Ruby Rose! _What_ are you _doing?!_ "  
  
She blinked and flushed. "Uh, hi, Weiss," she said, shifting her weight from foot to foot awkwardly. "Some pretty neat toys your boys have here."  
  
The two guards trying to restrain the Schnee heiress from advancing blinked and stared. "M-miss Schnee, you know this girl?" one of them asked hesitantly.  
  
" _Unfortunately_ ," Weiss growled. "She's my teammate at Beacon. I'm still waiting for an answer, Ruby."  
  
"Well, um," Ruby hemmed and hawed, refusing to meet her snowcapped teammate's eyes, "look, once you inherit the company, it'll be _these_ bozos' responsibility to keep you safe. I wanted to make sure they were up to snuff."  
  
Weiss closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "What am I going to do with you, Ruby?" She opened her eyes and glared at her. "And I can take care of myself, thank you very much!" She let out a long-suffering sigh, shook her head, and glanced at the guard to her left. "Just… mark this as an unscheduled security drill."  
  
"Um, yes, ma'am," the bewildered guard agreed.  
  
"And I still need those documents."  
  
"Of course, ma'am!"  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70TAZPStzQ)

  
The conference room aboard the _Nemesis_ was dimly lit to conserve power. Even with their new arrangements, the supply of energon was still only a trickle. That would change, in time, but for now, they had to be frugal.  
  
Starscream's optics flicked briefly to the door behind Soundwave. Since the crash, only Soundwave and Ambulon ventured past that door regularly; Starscream himself regretted the sequence of events that had sent him there last time.  
  
Still, _he_ was not on trial. Not today. His optics swept back over to one who was.  
  
“Lugnut-” he hissed.  
  
"Hail Megatron!" Lugnut interrupted, snapping to attention, fist over his fluid pump.  
  
Starscream scowled at the interruption, resisting the urge to facepalm. "Lugnut, would you care to explain what happened?"  
  
"A Grimm attack breached the facility's defenses, allowing a number of human workers to escape while the Grimm were fought off. They hijacked one of the smaller transport vehicles we kept on base for the little human security drones. I sent Barricade to recover them, and he failed, returning with wild stories about Autobots in the human city."  
  
"Lugnut," Soundwave spoke, his eerie monotone sending a suppressed shiver through Starscream's circuits. "I have reviewed Barricade's report and recording of the confrontation. Presence of Autobot scout B-127 has been confirmed and verified. Additional audio cues match with existing audio files of Autobot leader Optimus Prime."  
  
"We have no visual confirmation," Lugnut retorted. "The coward ran from a _sound!_ I question his dedication to the cause."  
  
"This is a disgrace!" Starscream accused. "Regardless of Barricade's failure, _you_ allowed these humans to escape in the first place!"  
  
"I have already upgraded the refinery's fixed defenses to prevent a repeat of this incident. Not even the really big Grimm are getting anywhere near the place now!" the big Decepticon boasted. "Let them try, and they'll be blasted to atoms!"  
  
"The Grimm attack is irrelevant!" Starscream screeched, slicing a hand through the air. "You let witnesses escape! And this, _after_ you managed to lose a shipment of energon, without even a clue who was responsible!"  
  
"That shipment was out of my hands!" Lugnut growled. "I had orders to keep a low profile: no humans to avoid drawing in Grimm, no Decepticon escort to avoid alerting the humans. I _told_ you that was a recipe for disaster!"  
  
"Acknowledged, Lugnut," Soundwave interjected before Starscream could respond.  
  
"Soundwave," Starscream redirected his attention, "I say this incident makes it clear that Lugnut is incapable of handling operations in Vale. He should be removed!"  
  
Lugnut barely kept himself from lunging at the air commander.  
  
"Confirmed," Soundwave agreed. "Lugnut. Previous analysis indicated operations in the Vale Theater were within your capabilities. The confirmed presence of one or more Autobots in the region has altered the results of that analysis. You will be reassigned."  
  
"Excellent!" Starscream cheered exultantly. " _I_ , of course, will be happy to-"  
  
"Inform Onslaught of his new duties," Soundwave interrupted. "Additional reinforcement of Vale Theater operations deemed strategically optimal. Full Combaticon force will be reassigned."  
  
"Of… course…" Starscream ground out.  
  
Lugnut smirked. It was good to see Starscream taken down a peg. He did not know why Lord Megatron put up with the treacherous air commander, but he wasn't about the question their glorious leader's infinite wisdom.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D33Begj0084)

  
Ruby, Weiss, and Blake sat together inside their dorm in somber silence. Blake was watching the windows, Ruby was watching Weiss, and Weiss was looking at the holographic screen of a laptop computer with an expression of shameful dread. The high of victory had given way once more to the grim reality of their situation.  
  
“How bad is it, Weiss?” asked Ruby.  
  
The snowcapped girl’s eyes widened as if she had been dunked in ice water. She refocused then on her leader and let out a sigh. She had only evil news for her teammates.  
  
“It’s bad,” she admitted. “Some of the data has been expunged, but the stuff that’s been left is enough to make me shake in my boots.”  
  
“Is it enough to bring to Ozpin?” prodded Blake hopefully.  
  
Weiss shook her head. “No, not yet, but… Blake, it looks like a lot of AK-130s have been written off as losses, more than I thought the SDC ever bought; some of them were in batches that were only in operation for a month before being taken out of service. Some are listed as scrapped for the new AK-200s, which are rolling out months ahead of the original schedule, some as stolen, others as just plain 'lost' or 'inventory error.' That’s a lot of firepower just dropping off the grid.”  
  
Now it was Ruby’s turn to grow worried. “Why?”  
  
“I don’t know," Weiss admitted, "but if I had to guess, I'd say it has something to do with this word that keeps coming up in the classified materials."  
  
“Don’t leave us hanging, Weiss. What is it?” asked Ruby.  
  
“Give me a minute,” the heiress replied as she jumped to a new screen. “I’m trying to find out… oh, that explains everything.”  
  
Weiss paused and then let out a heavy, weary breath. “The SDC has some new investors -- business partners -- and they’ve helped introduce something called energon. As the name implies, it’s an energy source, one with practically unlimited applications. I don’t know about the unlimited part, but it doesn’t matter how viable it actually is. The point is that they think this substance can change the world, and they want a monopoly on it.”  
  
“Whatever it takes, huh?” asked Blake with an acidic edge.  
  
Weiss closed her eyes and nodded. “Whatever it takes,” she admitted. “My father always did care about winning more than he did about… anything, really.”  
  
“So, that’s it then?” asked Ruby. “The SDC has developed some new superfuel, and they’re using off-the-books slave labor camps to manufacture and test it before doing some big worldwide rollout?”  
  
“That about sums it up,” confirmed Weiss.  
  
Blake nodded slowly at that. “Okay then. We got something to look for. We find this energon, we find the slaves; we find the slaves, we take down the SDC.”  
  
“Whatever it takes,” Ruby echoed ironically. "We'll do it."  
  
A cold smirk graced Weiss’s lips. “Vendetta.”  
  
“What was that?” Blake asked.  
  
There was the sound of someone turning the dormroom’s knob, and before it could complete a single rotation, Weiss had already closed out of all sensitive screens. Their tracks were covered.  
  
“I’ll tell you later, Blake,” Weiss said as Yang walked through the door. “We’re studying for math right now, not history.”  
  
“Man, is that all you guys do here? Study?” asked the blonde jovially. “And come on, you’re doing it so much, Ruby’s looking depressed.”  
  
Ruby felt a smile grace her lips. “It’s not that, Yang. We went to a bookstore today, and we didn’t buy anything.”  
  
“So?” asked her sister ironically.  
  
“So? You don’t understand! This store was run by this charity worker, and he had so many amazing titles! He had the _The Grimm’s Tooth_!”  
  
Yang’s eyes widened at that. “Holy smokes! You finally found a physical copy?”  
  
“I told you they existed!” replied Ruby with great cheer.  
  
“Okay, you were right,” agreed Yang. “So right, in fact, that I think you deserve a little treat. Stop studying, Rubes. We’re going back to that bookstore right now.”  
  
“Before you go, I just thought you should know that the store owner told me to tell you that you did good,” spoke up Blake.  
  
Yang raised an eyebrow. “I did good?”  
  
Blake shrugged. “His coworkers at the charity helped get the people you rescued settled and told me to pass the good news along. Maybe just take the compliment as is.”  
  
“Maybe I will,” agreed Yang with a smile.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
For the second time that day, the door to Tukson’s Book Trade admitted the small excited form of Blake’s teammate, though thankfully, this time there were other people around. He didn’t think he could take yet another veiled conversation with layers of meaning interwoven into every word again. Then the girl with muscles like a dragon’s and hair like the Vacuoan sun stepped through after the small one, and he reassessed his priorities again.  
  
The blonde gave Ruby an appreciative nod as she went about collecting a small stack of books, and then walked right up to him at the counter. “Heard you were spreading compliments about me,” she said conversationally.  
  
“Only because they were true,” he replied in equal tone.  
  
The blonde snorted. “Oh boy, this definitely sounds like flirting,” and at that she stuck out her hand. “I’m Yang, pleased to meet you.”  
  
Tukson took the hand firmly and shook it. “Tukson. Nice to finally meet the big hero lady.”  
  
“Nice to finally have some good news,” she replied with a genuine smile as their hands separated. “Say, I hear you work with a charity that helps out people who need it, and while I have my doubts about my qualifications because of…” at this, she vaguely waved toward herself, “... and my general time problem because I’m at Beacon, I would still like to help out where I can.”  
  
Tukson put his hand to his chin. “I don’t know, Yang. I don’t really have the authority to do anything like that.”  
  
“Hey, I’m not asking for the moon. Just pass it along to see who bites,” Yang said somberly. “I want to help.”  
  
The bookstore owner sighed. “Very well. I’ll pass it along.”  
  
There was a deafening thud from the side, and Yang and Tukson both turned to see Ruby standing there with a million watt smile and a stack of books more than a foot high. She brought out her wallet and put it on the table before speaking. “I’d like to purchase all of these, and yes, I have the money, dear sister of mine. No need to worry.”  
  
Tukson smiled as he began to scan the books for purchase. What a day this had been. It made him wonder what tomorrow would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please come join us on our Discord server, [Sapphire Sparks](https://discord.gg/acKKNXR).


	4. V1E4: Meetings

**Volume I: Episode 4: Meetings**  
  
* * * 

  
More than a week had passed since Yang had put out the call, and she was starting to get nervous. Not because of the fear that no one had heard her, but because of the fear that everyone had heard her. Even now, Torchwick and his goons could be lying in wait, standing ready to capture her when she next went off Vale’s beaten tracks so that they could deliver her on a silver platter to their boss, Jacques Schnee. Or worse, the Decepticons. It was lucky for her, then, that she had an ace up her sleeve in the form of her big yellow friend.  
  
It was while she happened to be inside that big yellow friend on a trip to the city that she finally got a call on her burner scroll.  
  
“Well, that’s convenient,” mused Bumblebee. “We haven’t even left our parking spot. Here’s hoping none of these city folk decide to box us in while we’re busy.”  
  
Yang found herself agreeing as she activated the scroll. Audio only, of course. “Took you long enough.”   
  
_“Yeah, yeah. You should count yourself lucky that I even got a reply back on this,”_ said Junior over the wireless audio line.  
  
“Okay then, I’m lucky. Now what’s the reply?” pressed Yang.  
  
 _“Straight from the man himself. Roman says to meet him at a warehouse down by the docks in three days, around eleven at night. I'm texting you the address.”_  
  
Yang glanced at the scroll. “Got the address. Is this the part where you say that this looks shifty, and then I say not to worry because I can handle it?"  
  
 _“Nice to see you know the script, Blondie.”_   
  
“I had a good line coach,” she said, thinking back to some of her uncle’s stories. “Well, you can tell Torchwick I’ll be there.”  
  
 _“I’ll pass that along. Good luck, Blondie. You’re going to need it.”_  
  
"Aww, didn't you know you cared, Junior."  
  
Click.  
  
“So, you planning to spring the trap?” asked Bumblebee as his partner put away her scroll.  
  
“Yep,” replied Yang with a pop of her lips. “Well, okay, I’m planning to walk in there in good faith, like I’m applying for a job interview. No need to let them know that I’m only joining up long enough to get enough information to take down their employers right off the bat.”  
  
“But they probably already suspect that,” pointed out the yellow Autobot.  
  
“Right, which is why you’ll be standing by to extract me if things go south. I don’t think they’ll be expecting the car to roll out with no one in it.”  
  
“Unless they’re aligned with the Decepticons directly. Then Barricade or someone else could be lying in wait. Call me crazy, but I don’t think we’re in any position to take on someone like, say, Menasor at our current energon levels.”  
  
“That’s why I said to extract me, Bumblebee. I’m not stupid.”  
  
“Oh,” Bumblebee realized. “Sorry. Had a sudden rush of scrap to the central processor and became Cliffjumper for a second.”  
  
“Do I want to know?”  
  
“Let me put it like this. If you were with Cliffjumper right now, you wouldn’t be setting up any meeting, you’d be smashing down the doors of every warehouse in the docks, guns blazing.”  
  
“That’s…” Yang paused to consider the most inoffensive way to say what she was thinking, “...exciting."  
  
“That’s what Jazz said the third time he had to rescue Cliffjumper from a Decepticon force twice their number.”  
  
Yang smiled at that. “Okay, I’ve got to hear this.”   
  
She could hear Bumblebee smiling as well as he began his tale. “Well, it all started around the time of the Thirty-Third Battle of Polyhex. Now, you could tell that It was going to be an interesting day because Hot Shot said in full view of Cliffjumper…”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“I don’t know what to do,” moaned Ruby as she slumped against the wall of the hall.  
  
It was not their darkest hour, not yet, but this directionless malaise felt almost as bad. It didn’t matter how hard she was throwing herself into her studies, she couldn’t get that terrible image out of her head. Somewhere out there, a group of innocents was crying out for a hero, and she couldn’t answer the call.  
  
“Need some help?”  
  
Ruby looked up and found the smiling face of Jaune Arc looking down at her. She smiled back, but it was a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She hoped then that he would not guess the evil that her team had chosen to battle.  
  
“I don’t think you can help me with this, Jaune,” she replied. “I don’t think anyone can.”  
  
“Fiddlesticks,” cursed Jaune as he moved to sit on the floor besides Ruby. “You helped me with that whole Cardin situation. It’s only fair I repay the kindness.”  
  
“All I did was give you some advice, Jaune. It was your strength of character that carried the day then. No great deed on my part was needed,” placated Ruby.  
  
“Then let me see if I have any advice for you,” he suggested.  
  
"You're not going to let this go, are you?"  
  
"Nope!" he echoed cheerfully.  
  
Ruby smiled at the memory. Maybe he had a point. “We've -- my team, I mean -- we've kind of… picked a fight with a pretty big enemy. But we've kind of hit a dead end, and I just- it's frustrating."  
  
“I can get that,” Jaune commiserated. "If you don't mind me asking, why?"  
  
Ruby paused, considering her words carefully before answering. “Yang found out something pretty awful. It took a bit to get her to tell us, but even then, she told us not to get involved." Ruby sighed. "Please don't blame her; she's just being overprotective again. But… we couldn't just sit by. We got a few clues from Weiss and Blake's contacts, but we can't really push those any further."  
  
Jaune considered her words, but there was one thing she said that he couldn't quite get his head around. “Hold up. _Yang_ tried to get you guys to back down from a fight?”  
  
Ruby nodded, then replied, her voice worried, “You should have seen her, Jaune. She was _scared_ , terrified really. If she knew what I was doing… I don't want to betray her, disappoint her, but I can't just let this go.”  
  
Jaune exhaled heavily in response. “This is certainly a fine mess you've gotten yourself wrapped up in, Ruby, but you don't have to do this alone.”  
  
“Jaune, I already have Weiss and Blake helping me,” Ruby pointed out.  
  
“That's two,” he acknowledged with a genuine smile. "How about four more?"  
  
Ruby’s eyes went wide with astonishment at her friend’s words. “No, Jaune, I can’t…”  
  
Her blond friend put his hand on her shoulder and interrupted her. “If our roles were reversed, what would you say?”  
  
Ruby didn't need to think long at all to get her answer. “Okay," she relented, "I get it. But… this isn't just me. I need to talk to Weiss and Blake first, and you should _probably_ check with the rest of Team JNPR first, too.”  
  
“Okay, then what?” asked Jaune pointedly.  
  
“Your dorm, after midnight? Then we'll see if Team RWB needs a new name."  
  
"'Team Rube'? Sounds like it needs a new name anyway,” the blond quipped.  
  
"Hey! It's better than 'Team Rib' or 'Team Rub'," Ruby shot back.  
  
“That's debatable.”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
As agreed, just after midnight when the door to Team JNPR’s dorm slowly opened. Through it came Team RWB, still dressed in their pajamas, to be greeted by the similarly clad residents of the dormitory in a room almost completely shrouded in darkness, save for a few flashlights in lantern mode.  
  
“It’s… dark in here,” observed Weiss.  
  
“Dark rooms for dark business,” replied Nora menacingly.  
  
“We thought it was better to use flashlights rather than keep the lights on and cause a scene,” Ren informed them bluntly.  
  
“Ren! I was going to be all epic about this,” said Nora in despair. “Now the moment is ruined.”  
  
“Don’t be too hasty,” Blake said. “We haven’t even started talking, after all.”  
  
“So, shall we begin?” asked Pyrrha seriously. “Who is this great enemy?”  
  
Without an ounce of hesitation, the Ruby answered, “The Schnee Dust Company.”  
  
Whatever answer Team JNPR had been expecting, that clearly wasn’t it.  
  
Still visibly confused, Nora was the first to answer. “Hold up, the SDC? You’re going after the biggest dust company on Remnant?" She paused as a thought crossed her mind. "Doesn’t Weiss’s dad run the place?”  
  
“Yes,” the heiress in question growled hatefully. “Straight into hell.”  
  
Team JNPR seemed taken aback by the venom in her voice.  
  
“You still in for this?” Ruby asked, before the discussion derailed further.  
  
All four members of Team JNPR nodded, and Jaune spoke, “Well, with an opening like that, we’ve got to stay just to find out what you’re talking about."  
  
Blake was the first of the triumvirate to speak. “When Yang finally got her car ready to run, she was out on the town almost all night. We were curious as to what kept her, so we asked her the next afternoon after classes ended for the day. She explained, after some prodding on Weiss’s part, that she had run into and helped some escaped slaves trying to go to ground. Yang tried to convince us not to investigate, but… well…" She shrugged. "We learned that they likely escaped from an SDC blacksite north of Vale, beyond the city walls. As to what this blacksite was being used for…” She looked over at Weiss.  
  
“The SDC has some new business partners," Weiss continued. "We don’t know who they are, but we do know they’ve helped create a new superfuel called energon, a substance the SDC believes will change the world. We also discovered large amounts of hardware, especially combat androids, mysteriously disappearing from our inventory. In some cases, the amount of material being written off exceeds the amount officially built or bought. We think this equipment is being funneled to this blacksite -- or perhaps multiple blacksites -- where the SDC is using slave labor to create and test this energon before rolling it out for the public on a much grander scale.”  
  
Ruby nodded gravely, picking up where the heiress left off. “We need to find this facility that those people escaped from, and we need to take it down, along with everyone responsible for it. We were hoping Professor Ozpin would be able to handle the SDC, but we need to get him evidence first, solid evidence that isn’t full of holes and black bars. But we’ve reached the end of our resources. Weiss can’t probe her corporate contacts anymore, and we don’t want to put Blake’s charity contacts at risk. I don’t have any resources to start with, so we're stuck. I don't suppose you guys have any ideas?”  
  
Before anyone else could reply Nora cut in. “Hold up! Mysterious backers? Forced labor camps that don’t exist? A new super substance? A whole lot of military equipment going missing? Does this smell like a ‘take over the world’ plot to _anyone_ else?”  
  
Ren opened his mouth to rebut her, but the words died in his mouth; he didn’t have a counter beyond ‘that’s crazy,’ and that wasn’t an argument at all. Reactions to the theory varied, from Blake and Weiss's horror to Pyrrha's polite skepticism. Jaune, however, looked thoughtful.  
  
"Look, while it makes sense, let's not get ahead of ourselves," he cautioned. "True or not, I don't see how that affects our next step. If they're making this 'energon' at this blacksite, then they're either storing it all locally -- which doesn't make a whole lot of sense for the scale you're suggesting, Weiss -- or they're transporting it out. That means roads, rail lines, or air transport. Maybe a pipeline, if it's liquid. If we can track that, we can find the site, right?"  
  
Pyrrha perked up. "I… may know someone who might be able to help check for unusual air traffic," she offered.  
  
"Right, great," Jaune said, nodding to the redhead. He looked at the others. "Anyone able to look into roadworks or construction? Roads or rail or pipelines would need material, construction crews, and turrets or walls or something to keep the Grimm from wrecking them. Any ideas?"  
  
"Public records," Ren suggested. "While the amount of material in question would be difficult to acquire and transport covertly, the specific records might be difficult to acquire access to without drawing suspicion… but construction outside the city walls would require a strong Huntsman or other military presence to protect against Grimm assault, in addition to the construction crews. The missing androids could account for that, but that would also significantly increase their transport footprint. We could check Beacon's records for any unusual missions in the area and ask the Huntsmen who took them for details."  
  
"All right!" Ruby cheered. "Sounds like we have a plan!"  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“Are you sure? Do you think this plan will really work?” Yang asked as she looked out on their destination.  
  
“I think so. After all, I do have experience in this sort of this. Well, not exactly,” Bumblebee admitted. “But I did sign up for scout work, and I picked up a few pointers from Punch.”  
  
"Who's Punch?"  
  
"An intelligence operative," Bumblebee replied. "That's… all I can say, really. Just make sure to stay calm, don’t give yourself away, and hope they don't recognize you.”  
  
Yang looked down and took stock of her outfit. It was fairly simple, like something seen at a race track, with brown steel-toed boots, white pants with strategic padding, and a white padded jacket opened to reveal a red t-shirt. The ensemble was completed by her own mirrored sunglasses and her hair done up in a ponytail.  
  
As simple as it seemed, though, there was definitely more to the outfit that met the eye. After all, it had come off an Autobot assembly line back at their base, apparently one of the first iterations of clothing for any future human and faunus friends of theirs. She knew at least one feature of it was the ability to make their logo appear and disappear on it, which was neat.  
  
“Here's hoping,” Yang mused. “I mean, this really isn’t my style.”   
  
“And that’s the point. Anyway, it's almost game time. Before you get going, I've got one more thing for you.”  
  
A panel on the dash slid open to reveal a tiny, wireless earbud. It was mostly transparent plastic, with small flesh-colored sections concealing the presumed electronics inside. She put it on, nestling it carefully within her ear canal,, and soon afterward, she could hear Bumblebee’s voice through the device instead of the car speakers like usual.  
  
 _“Okay, now we should be able to talk to each other in case there’s trouble. Can you hear me?”_  
  
“Yes, I can hear you, Bumblebee. Let’s get this over with.”  
  
Yang steeled herself, and they moved towards the warehouse. The front door was open slightly, and light could be seen streaming in from the inside. The door was, unfortunately, purely made with humans in mind.  
  
Yang climbed out when Bumblebee had come to a stop and advanced on the entrance. “Keep your ears open for anything happening in there that I might not see,” she told him, and then proceeded to walk inside.  
  
 _”I’m already tracking them on infrared. And there’s a lot of ‘em.”_  
  
“‘Infrared’?”  
  
 _”Yeah. I’m a scout, remember? State of the art optics.”_  
  
She went through another two doors before she reached the main warehouse area and found, standing in the middle of a shaft of light from an overhead lamp, Roman Torchwick. He didn't look like much, ginger hair and green eyes, with an impeccably clean white coat, black pants, and a black bowler hat, but he stood with confidence, his hands resting on a cane in front of him. Standing some distance behind him was a small girl with pink and brown hair and eyes, dressed in an aesthetically-similar outfit, though much more feminine, with an umbrella resting daintily on her shoulder. Yang could also feel eyes on her from the shadows surrounding them.  
  
“Well, hello, Blondie. I hear you’ve been looking for me,” Roman said smoothly.  
  
Yang smirked cockily and struck a confident pose. “You heard right, Torchwick.”  
  
The redheaded criminal seemed to appreciate that. “I also heard that you want to get into the dust thieving business. Is that true?”  
  
"More like I'm a woman of limited means who's suddenly found herself with a need for a… significant supply of it," Yang replied. "You can call me Sunfire."  
  
 _"'Sunfire'?"_ Bumblebee echoed. _"I like it."_  
  
"And you want in so you can get a cut," Torchwick concluded.  
  
"Something like that, yeah," Yang confirmed. “Don’t worry. If you -- or your _boss_ , I suppose -- are trying to keep the prices high, I won’t be selling it off.”  
  
“Oh, you wouldn’t, would you?” Torchwick asked, cocking an eyebrow. “And what would a girl like you need that much dust for?”  
  
“I could ask you the same thing,” Yang shot back, "but I suspect I'd get the same answer."  
  
“Hmm. That's fair. Let’s say I believe you,” he said. “What do you have to offer?”  
  
“You hear about Junior’s nightclub getting trashed a while back?”  
  
“That was you? Well, I _am_ impressed… assuming you’re telling the truth. Neo, if you would?”  
  
Yang felt a sudden stab of pain in her sternum and found herself flying back.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70TAZPStzQ)

  
From the air, Site 13 didn't look all that impressive. A clump of irregular black buildings surrounded by a defensive wall, all nestled in a valley between three mountains, it surrendered the high ground for relative obscurity. Sure, once past the mountains, it was painfully visible, the forest surrounding it cleared and the grass razed to ankle height to provide clear fields of fire for the autogun turrets.  
  
Including the ridiculous anti-orbital cannon someone -- almost certainly Lugnut, which was no surprise, really -- had seen fit to install on the central tower.   
  
But it lay outside normal air traffic lanes, and the nearest dirt road for ground-level access was over two kilometers away and required a hike into the deep forest and through a hidden tunnel access to reach the valley.  
  
As Vortex flew over the valley, Onslaught noted the tunnel opening. Poor foresight on Lugnut's part to not conceal the tunnel entrance on _this_ end. Too late to conceal it now; they'd just have to secure it some other way.  
  
As they approached the landing pad, he noted Barricade and Swindle waiting for them. Good. He’d sent the team’s quartermaster ahead to get an inventory of on-site assets.  
  
"Finally!" came an impatient voice from behind Onslaught, riding opposite Vortex's transport bay. "Should've let Blast Off take us. He's faster."  
  
"Patience, Brawl," Onslaught chided. "We need Blast Off on sub-orbital overwatch right now."  
  
This was a delicate time, after all. They were still within the window in which a potential retaliatory strike was likely, if the escapees contacted someone with the resources and inclination to launch one, and it wouldn’t do for the Combaticons to get caught off-guard before they could get properly situated.  
  
Brawl grumbled unintelligibly but otherwise kept his peace.  
  
Once they landed, Onslaught and Brawl dismounted, allowing Vortex to transform, shrinking himself down to match their scale. Size-shifting was common and useful enough on its own, but the more advanced _mass_ -shifting was capable of _so_ much more, and it was also integral to the combiner technology that helped make the Combaticons the deadly fighting force they were.  
  
 _"-ail Megatro-"_  
  
"Next time, Brawl, you can _walk_ ," Vortex snarled, jabbing a finger at the now-bigger Combaticon. "See how long it takes you then."  
  
 _"-eath to the Auto-"_  
  
"Oh, did I hurt your feelings?" Brawl mocked.  
  
There were, of course, disadvantages to leading such a team, as effective and deadly as they were.  
  
 _"-ead us into a new golde-"_  
  
"Shut up, both of you," he ordered curtly, cutting off the argument before it could turn into Brawl's namesake. "If you're going to fight, remember the rules."  
  
The rules -- _Onslaught's_ rules, that is -- were pretty simple. Infighting was to be kept off-duty and formalized into duels, under strict supervision. _His_ supervision, preferably.  
  
 _"-itable victory over th-"_  
  
"Yes, sir," the two chorused sullenly.  
  
"And Barricade, shut off that nonsense!" Onslaught barked. "I'm not going to listen to Lugnut proclaiming Megatron's glorious victory over the Primes. Again." He could already feel the headache coming on from dealing with Lugnut's idea of "motivational speaking."  
  
"Oh, thank Primus," Barricade muttered as he pressed a button on a handheld transmitter, cutting off Lugnut's recorded voice midword. He'd clearly been _waiting_ for that order. Which meant Lugnut had probably ordered him to keep the broadcast going.  
  
Onslaught was impressed. After that many cycles of listening to Lugnut continuously, and Barricade was still sane? The jumped up security 'Con was made of sterner stuff than he'd thought.  
  
"Swindle," he said, moving on to the next order of business, "status report. How are our supplies?"  
  
"We're well-equipped for the long run," Swindle reported. "The autoguns run off a central energon feed, and the big gun appears designed to accept either dust or energon for power."  
  
"And energon production?"  
  
"Moving apace. Lugnut's… _indifferent_ attitude to the workforce has not helped any. I believe we might be able to increase overall production by three percent through certain improvements in management and investing in luxury goods as motivation for the... hired help. I’ve already taken the liberty of canceling the daily educational seminars. I've also begun tapping into the local human city's network. Nothing much yet on that front, though."  
  
"Right," Onslaught acknowledged, making a mental note to keep Vortex off the labor force oversight rotation. "Keep me informed."  
  
"Of course, sir."  
  
Onslaught gave it about a 50/50 chance Swindle would _actually_ bother to update him -- the scrounger and fixer tended to get… _vague_ whenever it came to his shadier contacts -- but the reminder couldn't hurt.  
  
"All right," Onslaught said, then transmitted. "Blast Off, get down here. We've got a lot of work to do."  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D33Begj0084)

  
_“Yang, what’s happening?! According to my sensors, your structural integrity field just took a big hit.”_  
  
“The little umbrella girl just started my audition,” she whispered angrily.  
  
 _“Seriously? That little kid did all that?! Yang, don’t get hit again!”_  
  
“Wasn’t planning to,” the blonde muttered, deploying Ember Celica as she spoke.  
  
She raised her shot-gauntlets just in time to absorb a kick from Neo.  
  
“Wonderful, you can block,” Torchwick commented dryly. “But can you dance?”  
  
“I know a few moves,” Yang quipped as she backed away. “Let me show you.”  
  
The disguised Huntress (in training) snapped her arms toward the ground and fired off a pair of gravity rounds. Riding the recoil, she launched herself up into the air and came down on a catwalk. As soon as she hit the metal, she was already at the edge and shadowboxing a bombardment of explosive dust rounds onto the floor of the warehouse, making Neo buck and weave to avoid getting hit.  
  
 _”Yes! Keep her off-balance!”_  
  
“And then finish her off!” Yang declared as she jumped, fired off a pair of gravity rounds to launch herself even further into the air, and then pivoted to fire off another pair of gravity rounds to launch her body towards Neo.  
  
 _“Wait! No!”_  
  
With a battlecry and one fist extended out, hair alight with the fire of her soul made manifest, she hit the ground and let out a large earth dust powered shockwave. But Neo was not beneath that fist, nor was she anywhere on the ground. She had leapt up into the air and come down on Yang with a kick to the head.   
  
“Hey, watch the property damage!” Torchwick cried from the side. He then mused to himself. "Well, she's certainly capable of dishing out the kind of damage she boasted of, at least."  
  
Lilac eyes flashed to red as a growl escaped her throat. She let loose a flurry of punches, and every one of them failed to connect. She even threw in a kick, but the little girl with the unstoppable smile dodged that too.  
  
 _”Yang, we talked about this! Stop pulling a Cliffjumper!”_  
  
The blonde let out another cry and fired off another pair of gravity rounds to launch herself back up to the catwalks.  
  
“You’re playing this like it’s a boss fight in one of those video games you kids are into these days,” commented Roman. “Well, two can play at that.”  
  
“Going to call in some help from all the goons you have waiting in the wings?” asked Yang sarcastically.  
  
Roman cocked his one visible eyebrow at that. “How did you know about that, sweetheart?”  
  
Yang cocked a smirk. “Only the best in optics. Though I’m sure with a boss as rich and powerful as yours, you’re swimming in tech like that.”  
  
Roman muttered something under his breath that sounded like disappointment, and she found herself amused by the sight… right up until Bumblebee yelled in her ear.  
  
 _“Right! Dodge!”_  
  
Yang ducked, and where her head just was, a parasol sailed through. Neo had jumped onto the catwalk with her. The blonde recoil boosted back and let loose a pair of glowing dust rounds that impacted the short girl’s spinning umbrella.  
  
The blonde launched into another series of punches, trying to get inside Neo’s guard. And once again, the little girl was dodging everything she threw at her. Then, suddenly, she grabbed one of Yang’s arms, and the equation shifted further in her favor.  
  
In a move that made Yang dizzy just to watch, Neo launched herself up onto the blonde’s shoulders and spun around like a top. She ended up grabbing the Beacon student’s arm once more and using the bigger girl’s weight to flip her. Yang found herself sailing through the air towards the roof, but fell short just enough to come crashing down to the floor.  
  
Yang groaned as she saw dozens of armed faunus in the signature white and black uniforms with Grimm masks of the White Fang file in, pointing their guns at her.  
  
“Okay, I admit it, I wasn’t expecting this,” she said. “Unless, of course, this is all a _deception_.”  
  
Torchwick brandished his cane and pointed the tip at her as Neo daintily landed besides him with her parasol. “Lady, I don’t know what you came here expecting to do, whether it was to take my job or take us down, but the only thing you’re leaving here with is a death certificate and a pile of broken dreams.”  
  
The tip of the cane popped open to reveal a gun barrel and a crude sight.  
  
“So, any last words?”  
  
Yang smiled faintly. “Just one: _Bumblebee!_ ”  
  
The warehouse's cargo door smashed open, propelled by the force of the little yellow car barreling through it. It sped across the ground too fast to react to, shifting its geometry along the way and tucking into a roll. Now revealed in his robot form, Bumblebee stopped his roll on one knee, slamming an arm into the floor between his human partner and Torchwick, and intercepting the dust round from the latter.  
  
Yang picked herself up off the ground, and Bumblebee brought his arm up, transforming it in the process into his blaster. Her trump card now revealed, Yang's jacket also shifted slightly, to display three red emblems that looked slightly like faces, one on each shoulder, and a larger one on her back. The looks on Torchwick and Neo's faces definitely made the beating she had just received worth it.  
  
“They’re Autobots!” one of the White Fang cried out.  
  
Torchwick ignored the cry and focused on Yang and Bumblebee. “You kids just keep getting _weirder_. Is your big robot buddy here supposed to impress me?”  
  
“A little, yeah,” Yang replied. “So are you going to tell me what’s going on here, or are we going to have to do things the hard way?”  
  
The red-haired criminal put a hand to his chin. “Hmm, I’ll have to think about that one. In the meantime, Neo, demonstrate to them what happened to your throat.”  
  
Neo shot forward once more, parasol raised. Yang and Bumblebee prepared to defend themselves. Then, before she had gotten very far at all, she seemed to slash out in an attempt at a possible ranged attack. They never would get to find out what trick she was doing.  
  
Neo’s strike was intercepted by the red blade of a man in black. Her eyes changed then from pink and brown to a terrified white as she jumped back. The man swung his sword at her, and a red pulse ripped out from it to sail over her head and cut through the ceiling.  
  
“Now, Neo, is that any way to treat a friend?” the man asked smoothly, his back still to Yang so that the only distinguishing features she could see were his blood red hair and the tips of a pair of pointed, swept-back horns.  
  
“Adam!” another of the White Fang called. “You came!”  
  
“Of course, I came,” the now-named Adam replied. “When I found out this _human_ was overstepping his bounds while Cinder was away, I knew I had to investigate. Turns out I was right in more ways than one to do so.”  
  
“Oh, I’m overstepping my bounds?!” asked Torchwick sarcastically. “She left me in charge of city operations. That’s what I’m doing.”  
  
“What you’re doing is interfering with White Fang business. Her and her plans don’t have anything to do with this,” Adam insisted.  
  
"Excuse me?" Torchwick retorted. "This girl here is looking for dust. You don't think that's relevant to her plans?"  
  
“You have no idea who these two are, do you?”  
  
Torchwick raised the eyebrow visible past his bangs and leaned to the side to look past Adam and get a better view of Yang. She waved at him with a smile, and Bumblebee transformed his blaster back into a hand to do likewise. “A puffed up teenager with delusions of grandeur and her Atlesian supercar that her rich daddy bought her?”  
  
Yang resisted the urge to correct him that it had been her rich _friend_ who had contributed most of the funds to get Bumblebee out of that dealership.  
  
Adam growled angrily. “They are the two who helped our latest recruits escape the SDC."  
  
Torchwick scoffed. "You mean the nutballs who were talking about… giant… robots?" he trailed off as he made the connection. "Riiight. So maybe not nutballs."  
  
“No, and don’t you forget it,” Adam said simply before turning to face the subject of their conversation.  
  
His face and mask was one Yang had seen on wanted posters before, back when she had been so excited to hear that her sister had almost taken down a notorious criminal that she had spent all night searching for anyone that fit that description. Adam Taurus, a high-ranking member of the White Fang, wanted for theft, murder, terrorism, and a whole slew of other crimes that came with his position and tactics. She had to admit, though, that in person, he seemed rather charming, and his face would even be considered beautiful were it not for the mask; it was a thought that almost sickened her.  
  
“I’m sorry for the theatrics,” he said disarmingly. “I heard about your request. I have to say, it’s not often a human tries to join the White Fang. Though, I’m also sorry to say that we’re not open to applications from your particular species at this time.”  
  
At that Bumblebee spoke up. “Why do I have a feeling you would be a lot more direct with that if there wasn’t a Cybertronian in the room?”  
  
“Two Cybertronians, actually,” came a voice even smoother than Adam's.  
  
In through the broken open door rolled a bright white Ferdinand 119 sports car that quickly shifted and transformed into a robot slightly larger than Bumblebee.  
  
“Oh, hey, Jazz!” Bumblebee called out. “When did you join the party?”  
  
“I’ve been kicking it here since before you ever arrived on the scene,” was Jazz’s reply, and damn, Yang bet she could spread that voice over toast better than butter.  
  
Adam laughed. “So, is this where one of us says, ‘take me to your leader’?”   
  
“Oh, I called Prime the moment these two chuckleheads rolled on up. He should be here any minute,” Jazz reported with a single mechanical finger pointing at the yellow pair at the center of the warehouse.  
  
Yang found it odd that despite being in a tense situation surrounded by dangerous criminals, murderous terrorists, and two alien warrior robots where death was but a heartbeat away, the thing she was most scared of was the possibility of getting a scolding from Optimus. The Autobot leader just seemed to have that effect on people it seemed. Silently, she hoped he would never meet her father for any reason.  
  
“Sooo,” Torchwick said with some exaggerated shifting, “Sunfire, was it? How did a sweet girl like you end up rolling with a bunch of giant robots. There a story there?”  
  
“Yes,” replied Yang succinctly.  
  
Torchwick paused, waiting for her to continue. After a moment, he asked, “You going to tell it?”  
  
Yang smirked. “No.”  
  
Torchwick rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Oh dear. You’re another one of _those_ women with a fire-themed name. Of course. Here’s hoping the big cheese shows up soon so you don’t try to turn the floor into a model of the moon again.”  
  
He was there in two minutes, as luck would have it. The signature red, white, and blue truck cab rolled up to the warehouse like a bat out of hell and slid to a stop, transforming along the way into the towering form of Optimus Prime.  
  
"Is everyone unharmed?”  
  
“Yes! Except for her pride!” Torchwick called out, pointing at Yang. “And the profound awkwardness we got waiting for you to show up. And our security deposit.”  
  
"You actually rent this place?" Yang asked skeptically.  
  
"Well… no," Torchwick admitted. "The point stands, though. You are _not_ easy on the local property values, girl."  
  
At that, Jazz spoke up. “Bumblebee and _Sunfire_ here decided to throw a little side party without telling anyone and got into some fisticuffs for their trouble.”  
  
"I see," Optimus acknowledged. To Yang's surprise, there was no disappointment, no censure in his voice. "Sunfire," he said, looking over at Yang, "is this, then, where your contacts led you?"  
  
Yang nodded. "Yeah. Looking into the dust robberies led me to Torchwick over there," she said, nodding at the bowler-hatted redhead. "Wasn't expecting the White Fang, though."  
  
Optimus took a moment to consider that. "No," he agreed, "I expect you weren't. Jazz?"  
  
"Real deal, here," Jazz said. "Been keeping an eye on 'em. Most just took advantage of the White Fang's contacts and moved on, but a few like Brock here joined. They were doing okay, so I kept outta sight."  
  
Wait. Yang frowned. The Autobots had been following the faunus they'd helped?  
  
A good number of the heads in the room turned to one of the White Fang members in particular, likely the so-named Brock, who upon realizing that he was the center of attention stepped forward, pulling off his Grimm mask. "That’s me, Brock. I don’t mean to be a bother, but me and other other guys from Site 13 didn't get to thank you before, um, Optimus, was it? You took a bullet for us, and that takes guts," he said. "So… thank you." With a start, Yang realized it was the bat-eared faunus from the other night.  
  
"You are welcome," Optimus replied, nodding to the faunus who seemed to shuffle back into the crowd as quickly as was polite.  
  
"Wait, you were following them?!" Adam demanded, stepping toward Jazz aggressively.  
  
"Just to make sure they were okay," Jazz answered placatingly. “The Decepticons did send Barricade to punch their tickets to Stiffsville, after all. Didn’t seem right to just cut 'em loose without a guardian angel, ya dig?”  
  
"Hmm," Adam hummed, seeming to accept the answer, then looked over at Yang. "Why were _you_ looking for dust then, or was that a lie?"  
  
"Because the Decepticons want it," Yang answered, ignoring the accusation. "They have to be getting it from somewhere, the SDC needs to keep their books clean, and since we learned someone was stealing it without stealing the lien…" she trailed off meaningfully.  
  
Adam gave her a measuring look, then looked at Torchwick. "I told you leaving the lien was stupid."  
  
"Hey!" Torchwick protested. "Not my idea, remember? You want to tell our 'glorious leader' that?"  
  
Adam scoffed dismissively, then turned back to Optimus. "There's more to it than that, isn't there?" He didn't give Optimus time to reply. "Whatever. You want dust? Fine. We can work something out."  
  
"Hey, hey, hey!" Torchwick protested. "I worked hard to steal that dust for Cinder!"  
  
 _That name again,_ Yang thought. _‘Cinder.’ Cinder who, I wonder?_  
  
"Don't you worry, Torchwick," Adam assured him condescendingly. "I won't be dipping into your take. There are faunus who need to be liberated, and I'm guessing our large friends here want to shut down that facility themselves. We could use the firepower, and I presume you don't even know where it is, do you?"  
  
"A joint operation?" Jazz mused skeptically.  
  
"One job," Adam said, raising up a fist with his index finger extended. "We may not trust each other, but I think we can at least trust our objectives align for this."  
  
"Agreed," Optimus said.  
  
"Good." Adam gave a curt nod, then walked toward Yang. "I'll contact you through 'Sunfire,'" he said, then leaned in to whisper in Yang's ear. "And I _won't_ be going through Torchwick."  
  
Yang raised an eyebrow. "I'll be waiting for your call."  
  
Adam straightened up. "Good." He turned to Optimus. "Any objections? Questions?"  
  
Optimus genuflected and waved the White Fang leader forward.  
  
"I do have one question, Adam Taurus," he said quietly, once Adam had approached him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Why do you fight?"  
  
"I fight for the faunus!" Adam hissed, offended.  
  
"Hmm, perhaps I should clarify," Optimus said, unperturbed by Adam's obvious anger at the question. "What goal are you fighting to achieve? When will your fight end?"  
  
Adam opened his mouth briefly, then closed it. After another long moment, he said finally, “...I don’t think this line of questioning is relevant to the task at hand.”  
  
"True," Optimus admitted as he stood up. "But it is an important one nonetheless. Think on it, for your own sake, if no one else's."  
  
"If there's nothing else…?" Adam trailed off meaningfully. When no one said anything, he turned on his heel and left, waving the White Fang to follow him. Torchwick gave the Autobots a suspicious glare and followed, while Neo took the time to give Yang a parting curtsey before joining him.  
  
"Did… did that just happen?" Yang asked as they watched the two criminals and the crowd of terrorists depart. "Did we just agree to an alliance with the _White Fang_ , of all people?"  
  
" _I_ agreed," Optimus corrected her. "You may be our point of contact, Sunfire, but there's no need to involve yourself in this beyond that."  
  
"I…" Yang paused, unsure of what she was going to say. Bumblebee had given her the chance to back down before, but this was different. The White Fang were terrorists; they hurt and killed innocent people. Was that a step she was willing to take? No, obviously. But what about working with people who did?  
  
On the other hand, she thought about the Decepticons. Not only the facility they were about to target, but the things Bumblebee had mentioned to her in his war stories. Grindcore, the camps at Kaon, Simanzi.  
  
If the Decepticons were willing to do that to their own people, what would they do to humans and faunus? To the people Yang cared about, the people she swore to protect? What new horrors would they invent just because they could?  
  
Finally, she shook her head. "No, Prime, this is my fight -- this is _our_ fight -- whether we know it or not. I can't walk away from this. I'll be there; count on it." She found herself stifling a yawn as the battering she'd taken and the late hour made themselves known. "But for now, I need some sleep. Come on, Bumblebee."  
  
"Yeah, let's get you home," the yellow Autobot agreed as he shifted back into his car form.  
  
As Bumblebee drove off with Yang inside, Jazz stepped up next to Optimus and asked, his voice low, "She's got a point, you know. You really sure about this, Prime? Working with Mini-Megatron and his band of proto-Decepticons?"  
  
"The humans and faunus are much like we once were, Jazz. I can only hope we can turn them from the path we have taken before it is too late."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note 1 (Cody MacArthur Fett):**
> 
> This is without a doubt the most pivotal chapter of the fic, the point where what was is completely derailed into the dangerous minefield of what will be. We spent a lot of time thinking about things and waxing poetic about how they will go, and despite the forethought that went into this I still think that this will have a rocky reception. This reaction will be made all the worse by the simple fact that there is much that we can not tell the readers because it falls under the category of spoilers. . . . Still, it could be worse, because woah boy! The stories we could tell you about how this chapter could have turned out. There was legitimately a point where Ruby ceased to be herself and became Faramir, but luckily it was corrected before publication.
> 
> **Author's Note 2 (Cyclone):**
> 
> There you have it, folks. This was the make-it-or-break-it episode for this 'fic, so here's hoping we pulled it off. We knew going in that this was going to be a bit of a wham episode, but as work on it progressed, we realized it was even more important a plot keystone - far more important - than we had originally conceived. If there's anything I like more than using dramatic irony in fanfiction, it's inverting canon and subverting expectations; I like exploiting reader knowledge. It's even better when the story itself surprises me.
> 
> **Author's Note 3:**
> 
> Having written much further since we first posted this on Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity, including the above author's notes, we feel it's important to emphasize once again that _everything_ has diverged from _RWBY_ canon here. This chapter marks the divergence point (well, the visible one; the actual divergence was a long time ago, in-universe) that turns canon on its head. Don't expect the canon rails from here on out, or you will be sorely disappointed. The same ultimately applies to _Transformers_ (and the other Hasbro franchises involved in this 'fic) as well. We're not basing this off any particular _Transformers_ universe or canon but largely creating our own, drawing inspiration from whatever parts of the franchise we like. We even have some a fair bit of artwork, both character designs and key scenes, largely courtesy of one of our readers, Nobunagatron, which can be viewed on the [Spacebattles thread](https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/spark-to-spark-dust-to-dust-rwby-hasbro.759358/) and our Discord server, [Sapphire Sparks](https://discord.gg/acKKNXR).
> 
> No one here is exactly what he appears.


	5. V1E5: The Battle of Site 13, Part I

**Volume I: Episode 5: The Battle of Site 13, Part I**  
  
* * * 

  
Nora and Ren both looked upon the Huntsman, the one who had apparently gone on this mysterious mission, and raised their eyebrows. He was a sailor, stereotypically so, complete with a parrot on his shoulder and a rough-sewn outfit in shades of blue, and his weapon seemed to be an anchor, of all things. Even his accent as he was talking to the parrot seemed to be taken straight out of an old pirate drama.  
  
“Do you think that this guy can tell us what we need to know?” Nora asked suspiciously.  
  
“I believe he can tell us many things,” Ren answered sagely. "Whether those things include any information useful in our endeavor, only by asking will we know."  
  
Nora shrugged. “Well, no better time than the present.”  
  
The pair walked over to the man and struck a conversational tone.  
  
“Avast, me hearty,” Nora declared. “Do ye have a tall tale for us?”  
  
“We’re Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren from Beacon Academy. We called ahead,” Ren clarified.  
  
“Aye, aye, take a seat,” the man said, waving them to some boxes on the dock much like the one he was sitting on. They did so, and he continued speaking. “Name’s Shipwreck, kids. So you two want to hear about my adventures?”  
  
“Yar, the stranger and the more recent, please!” asked Nora.  
  
Shipwreck raised an eyebrow at her declaration. “You sure about that, little missy? I’ve seen some pretty wild things out there in the wilderness. Things that would make your hair stand on end.”  
  
“Squawk! Hair on end! All the hair on end!” the parrot declared.  
  
“We’ve seen some pretty wild things out there too,” Ren placated.  
  
“Crazy things!” confirmed Nora.  
  
“But let’s keep this limited to matters involving the SDC,” her long-haired companion continued.  
  
“Ha! Well, have I got a tale for you,” the sailor said heartily. “Polly, make sure to catch their faces with the scroll’s camera for this.”  
  
“Squawk! The tragedy of not having thumbs,” the parrot moaned as it flew down to pick Shipwreck’s scroll out of his pocket.  
  
“Now, either of you heard about the Mother’s Embrace?” he asked them with a grin.  
  
“Well, duh,” said Nora with a wave. “Of course we know what it is.”  
  
“Yes, it’s…” Ren began before Nora put her index finger to his lips.  
  
“Really, Renny?” the redhead asked seriously. “Who, exactly, are you about to waste time explaining it to?”  
  
Ren pulled down her finger to show that he was sporting a soft smile. “Well, that’s a fair point.”  
  
“Yep!” Nora said with a pop. “Now, tell us, Shipwreck. What happened?”  
  
At length, the Huntsman began his tale. “Now, our story starts a few months ago at an SDC facility in Vacuo. I was a little short on cash, and they were offering money for guard duty. Not long after I started, though, they needed escorts for a convoy they were sending across the desert, and I figured, why not join them. Same job, but I get to travel. Well, we were halfway there when the Dervishes attacked.”  
  
Nora winced. “Oh, I hate fighting them.”  
  
Ren nodded sagely. “Indeed. After all, it’s only natural when…” he felt a tap on his knee and looked to see his friend since childhood looking at him with a frown on her face. “Right. Sorry. Please continue, sir.”  
  
Shipwreck nodded, even as Polly attempted to balance the scroll on his shoulder. “Well, to make a daring fight short, we were on the ropes until I decided to lead them off. It worked, and the convoy got away scot-free. Trouble was that now they were gunning for me. I must have run three leagues in that first hour alone, fighting the whole way. Polly can attest to how awful it was; he was tucked under my clothes to stay out of the wind.”  
  
“You don’t want to know,” the parrot whistled.  
  
“We were into the fourth hour when the Dervishes finally let up. Couldn’t figure out what was with ‘em, and I wasn’t about to stick around to find out. Turned out, the reason was obvious when I crested the next dune.”  
  
“The Mother’s Embrace?” asked Nora breathlessly.  
  
Shipwreck snapped his fingers. “Got it in one. I figure it must have been revealed by the shifting winds. Was pretty creepy at first, just like the stories said. So I took a swig or ten of whiskey, and then the place seemed much more agreeable, if you catch my meaning.”  
  
Ren and Nora both nodded in unison.  
  
“Well, turns out I wasn’t the only one to stumble upon this place. There was a woman there as well, beautiful as the dawn, at least three fathoms tall, and strong as my old classmate after he had eaten his spinach. We talked, and it turned out she was from out of town and didn’t really know her way around, but she wasn’t any fan of the Dervishes. So, I grabbed my weapon, she grabbed hers, and together, we doubled back around to slay those Dervishes. They never saw us coming, and I was almost sorry the fight was so easy after that, almost.”  
  
“Oh, what happened next?” asked Nora excitedly. “Did you sweep her off her feet and live happily ever after?”  
  
Shipwreck chuckled. “Nah. I don’t think it would have worked out. Besides the whole compatibility issues, she was a priestess of some sort who needed to get back to her temple. Besides, I’ve always been more of a mermaid sort of man.”  
  
“'Mermaid'?” asked Nora, but before she could elaborate Ren cut her off.  
  
“What happened to the convoy?”  
  
Shipwreck put his hand to his chin. “Now, that’s the strange thing. When I got to town, it turned out the convoy had given over all its material to another convoy, but they had my paycheck waiting, so I didn’t look too deeply into it. Just happy to get out of the sands. After all, it’s like the T-shirts say, ‘It’s a terrible place to visit, but you wouldn’t want to live there.'”  
  
“Ever have anything like that happen in the north of Sanus?” questioned Ren.  
  
“What?” asked Shipwreck, startled. “Oh no. What happened up north was just a simple elaborate scheme involving some regional manager lady from the SDC who fell in love with a train conductor and tried to be together with him despite his family disapproving. She was a faunus, and he was a human, you see.”  
  
“The SDC has faunus managers?” asked Ren, surprised.  
  
“Oh, yeah, you know, at the SDC, they have a saying: they don’t discriminate, they’re jerks to everyone,” the sailor said before muttering under his breath, “It’s why I decided to stop working for those filthy landlubber…” he caught himself and then continued at a louder volume. “Anyway, his parents shared your surprise, but that just made them think she was a race traitor. They were faunus too, of course; he was adopted. So I helped throw together the mess that saw them get married, all emotional conflicts satisfied, and no one the wiser.”  
  
At that his eyes went wide in shock, and there was a shuttering click. Polly lowered the scroll with the avian equivalent of a grin at having caught his human in the moment. Nora and Ren just looked confused.  
  
“Uh, you guys didn’t hear that, right?” asked Shipwreck sheepily.  
  
“Hear what?” asked Ren. “We’ve just been sitting here watching your bird.”  
  
“Yep. We’ve only got eyes for the bird,” confirmed Nora.  
  
“Squawk! No flash photography!” Polly declared hypocritically.  
  
“Yeah, it was nice talking to you kids, but I think I better go for now,” said Shipwreck hurriedly before getting up and walking away.  
  
The two teens did likewise, and soon, they were walking away with a sense of strange disappointment.  
  
“Well, that was a bust,” lamented Nora.  
  
“Not completely,” contradicted Ren. “Though yes, it wasn’t exactly relevant to our investigation."  
  
“Do you think the others had better luck than us?” asked Nora as they walked away from the docks.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
Ruby, Jaune, and Blake all stared at the man in a form-fitting black bodysuit as he sat meditating on a log. They couldn’t even see his eyes, hidden as they were behind some sort of visor. Behind him, four students not much older than Jaune or Blake were standing around and searching the forest, and all of them were dressed in a manner similar to their teacher: like ninjas.  
  
“Jaune, how is this possible?” asked Ruby. “How have you found a ninja? An actual ninja!”  
  
Jaune stuttered at this. “I-I don’t know! This is the third guy we’ve seen today, and I didn’t know any details besides that he was involved in a suspicious mission involving the SDC!”  
  
Blake was slightly more composed. “Sensei, please tell us what happened that day.”  
  
The ninja held up his hand to stop them. They quieted, and he went back to meditating. Shortly, though, one of the students bounded up to them.  
  
“Excuse me. May I help you?” she asked.  
  
“Um, yes,” said Jaune. “If you don’t mind. We were just wondering what happened on his mission to northern Sanus four months ago.”  
  
The girl -- dark haired and dressed very much like a red kunoichi -- paused to consider their words while simultaneously looking at her teacher as he made a series of rapid hand movements. “I am sorry, but that is a private family matter that Professor Snake Eyes took time off from work from.”  
  
“Snake Eyes?” asked Ruby in wonder.  
  
The girl giggled in a way that made Jaune at ease and Blake slightly suspicious. “A more recent trend at Atlas Academy. I’m Jinx, by the way.”  
  
“Wait,” said Jaune, putting his hand up. “Do you mean to tell me that if we had gone to Atlas Academy, we could have been ninjas with cool nicknames?”  
  
Jinx shrugged. “Possibly.”  
  
Ruby turned to the other two members of her team. “Why didn’t we enroll at Atlas Academy again?”  
  
“Because we hate the SDC and everything it stands for?” answered Blake.  
  
“Because we didn’t think of it?” answered Jaune.  
  
“Oh, yeah,” bemoaned Ruby in realization.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“Of course, bandits tend to be selfish and distrustful of each other, so the plan worked. Now you know…”  
  
“And knowing is half the battle,” Weiss and Pyrrha chorused in groaning unison with the Atlesian Huntress as they listened to her tale.  
  
Weiss went on to add, “Yes, we got that after the fourth time you said that.”  
  
The Atlesian, a young blonde woman called Glenda, seemed to get indignant at that. “Well, if you had to sit through a semester of Professor Faireborn’s class, you’d be repeating it too."  
  
Weiss politely pretended not to hear the Huntress muttering about "spoiled rich brats."  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“I’m sure they’re doing fine,” answered Ren.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
Yang felt, rather than heard, her burner scroll going off.  
  
She slowed in the crowded courtyard and gave a surreptitious glance around. She saw the rest of Team RWBY waiting by the Huntsman statue where they'd agreed to meet and instead peeled off, stepping behind a tree that shielded her from the crowd before they saw her.  
  
"Yeah?" she answered. Straight to business.  
  
_"We're going to hit Site Thirteen tonight,"_ Adam said curtly. _"Bring your friends. Same place, just after sunset."_  
  
She nodded to herself. "All right. I'll be there."  
  
"Who was that? His voice almost sounds familiar."  
  
Yang jolted upright and spun to find herself facing Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. It was the last of them who had spoken, a curious look on her face.  
  
"Um," Yang hedged, searching for an excuse, "just someone from Maple's garage. I had them check out Bumblebee the other day, and there was some follow up stuff I wanted them to look at."  
  
That was dumb, Yang realized. But it was salvageable.  
  
"Oh." Blake frowned slightly. The voice had been barely audible from where she was standing, hard to make out, but while she couldn't quite place it, she was sure she'd heard it before. She must have heard the voice in passing at some point on one of her visits to the garage.  
  
"Car trouble?" Ruby asked, concerned.  
  
"Nothing major," Yang reassured her, waving it off. "Just want them to check on a few things. Said they might be able to squeeze me in this evening."  
  
She'd just need to call Maple's and stop by before heading out to meet Adam and the White Fang.  
  
"Well!" Weiss said, crossing her arms, impressed. "Talk about excellent customer service. Blake, I don't suppose you know a tailor in town? Right now, you're two for two in knowing just the _best_ people in Vale."  
  
Blake shifted slightly before answering. “Yeah. Nice guy, really good with bulk orders that have a lot of slight differences.”  
  
“Why do you need a tailor, Weiss?” asked Yang, looking at the heiress curiously. And, she had to admit, with no small amount of concealed suspicion. “You’re always the best dressed out of all of us.”  
  
“And how do you think I got that way?” replied the heiress, arching an eyebrow.  
  
“Hmm, I suppose you have a point,” Yang admitted.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
"He also forced us to attend daily 'educational seminars,' talking about how someone named 'Megatron' was basically the God of Light returned, how he would lead the galaxy into a golden age, and how the Autobots should all be destroyed," Brock said with a shudder. "There were even slideshows. It's how I recognized the Autobot symbol."  
  
"That... definitely sounds like Lugnut," Bumblebee mused. "You getting this, Optimus?"  
  
With all the Autobots and the White Fang's mishmash of vehicles, it was an odd-looking convoy. Adam, Brock, and Yang were riding Bumblebee in the lead: Adam to provide directions, Brock for intel, and Yang because it was Bumblebee. Thankfully, Maple had been surprisingly understanding about the last minute check-up on Bumblebee, allowing her to properly establish her cover. Bumblebee had been understanding too, for that matter, despite a little good-natured grumbling.  
  
_"I am, Bumblebee,"_ Optimus's voice came over the radio. _"Lugnut is a fanatic, but don't let his seeming simplemindedness fool you. Even assuming he has not received reinforcements, he will have learned from your escape and prepared contingencies."_  
  
"What exactly is the plan, though?" Yang asked. "They'll see us if we fly in, and with only the one tunnel, it's sure to be guarded."  
  
"Distraction," Adam said. "The Autobots can draw attention while I infiltrate the facility. Once the captives are free and on-site security is neutralized, we either evacuate or bring in the rest of the White Fang to help neutralize the garrison."  
  
"I'm going with you," Yang declared.  
  
Adam scowled. "No."  
  
"Yes," she persisted. "Look, you're a wanted terrorist, pal. I don't exactly trust you not to hang the Autobots out to dry. Besides, you might need help."  
  
"The _last_ time I worked with a partner, she bailed on me in the middle of a mission," he growled.  
  
"Oh, boo hoo," Yang mocked. "So your terrorist ex-girlfriend couldn't be trusted. What a shock. News flash, I'm not her."  
  
"No," he agreed begrudgingly. "You certainly aren't."  
  
"Face it, Adam. I'm coming with you, whether _you_ like it or not."  
  
He let out an aggravated snarl. "Fine!"  
  
“You know, Sunfire uses that word in the exact same way you do,” observed Bumblebee. “Only two people in the galaxy I’ve heard do that.”  
  
The two looked at each other, then gruffly turned their attention back to the road, arms crossed. Both of them. In the back seat, Brock shifted uncomfortably.  
  
“You’re not even _pretending_ to drive,” the bat-eared faunus lamented nervously.  
  
Outside the car, the road rolled on and on, until Adam finally broke the silence.  
  
“Turn left here."  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70TAZPStzQ)

  
Blast Off… was bored. There wasn't much call for orbital operations in a world so primitive that the native life couldn't even break atmo. Sure, Onslaught had him on sub-orbital overwatch while the other Combaticons got settled in, but aside from that and Starscream's experiments with the new dust-derived energon -- which, yes, in fact, did work in space, unlike its precursor -- Blast Off found himself on the ground or at low altitude more often than not.  
  
He was hardly being used to his fullest potential there! Why, he could fly in space! He could do so many other things that the pitiful and lowly groundwalkers couldn't because he was above them all! Above them, and everything else.  
  
So far from contact with his fellow Cybertronians, from any life or structures at all, it left him with a lot to think about. Why were they there? Was it all just a jumbled series of random chances, or did Primus actually exist and have a plan for them all? He didn’t know, but more and more, it kept him up at night.  
  
Night, beautiful night. Night when almost the whole world went dark and the fragility of life was truly revealed. Four spots of life, with a smattering of stars almost too faint to see. How did these squishies even survive like that? Did Cybertron look like that now? Ten million years had reduced the once-prosperous world to a shattered husk of its former, proud self, and who knew what had happened to it while they were in stasis? Would they return home only to find a dead world with a few holdouts of survivors eking out a bare existence? What place would he have on that world?  
  
_“Blast Off? This is Swindle. My shift’s over. Come on down and take over perimeter patrol.”_  
  
"Please," Blast Off scoffed. "I can keep watch on things from up here."  
  
_“Sure, you can. But the Boss says he wants optics on the ground itself, so just get down here, will you? This tunnel’s starting to give me the creeps.”_  
  
“All right, all right. I'll be there. Blast Off out.”  
  
With that final click, Blast Off was once again alone. Alone and unwanted. What point was flight without friendship anyway?  
  
With a carefully feathered descent, he reentered the atmosphere without causing any plasma flare and landed on the ground. Swindle was already about to enter the base, so he was alone with the animals. Ah, well, at least the bats and birds could sing a good tune.  
  
As he approached the tunnel entrance, he frowned. Couldn't that idiot Swindle at least take the time to make sure the tunnel doors were _properly_ closed when he got back from one of his "expeditions"? The quartermaster cared far too much for the humans, in Blast Off's opinion.  
  
His frown deepened when he tried to force it closed. Damn thing was stuck. Annoyed, he yanked it open to find out what was blocking the door… and found himself staring at a red chestplate. He looked up to find the unmistakable visage of Optimus Prime frowning grimly down at him before the Autobot leader's combat faceplate snapped shut over his mouth.  
  
Blast Off's optics dilated, giving him a beautiful view of the huge blue hand reaching for his own faceplate…  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D33Begj0084)

  
Blast Off let out one muffled complaint after another as the Autobots restrained him while Yang and Adam looked on. Ratchet was bent over the Decepticon, sparks flying, and after a moment, he stood up.  
  
"There," Ratchet said, satisfied. "External transmitter's disabled; you can drop the jamming field, Ironhide." He leaned over and patted Blast Off on the shoulder, offering a disarming smile. "Don't worry, Blast Off. It'll clear up in a few hours. Try a full reboot if it doesn't."  
  
That set the Decepticon into another frenzy of futile struggling.  
  
"We should just kill him," Adam said.  
  
Yang rolled her eyes. "Don't be an idiot, idiot. We kill him, what do you think they'll do to the people we're here to rescue?"  
  
Adam grunted wordlessly, obviously dissatisfied, but offered no argument.  
  
"This complicates things," Optimus rumbled.  
  
"What do you mean?" Yang asked.  
  
"This is Blast Off," he said. "If he's here, then the other Combaticons surely are as well." He looked over his fellow Autobots. "Does everyone remember their anti-combiner training?"  
  
"Of course!" Ironhide declared, with the others echoing his agreement.  
  
“'Combiner'? What’s that?” asked Adam.  
  
"Pray you never find out," Optimus answered.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70TAZPStzQ)

  
“Blast Off? Blast Off!” bellowed Onslaught as he held one of his fingers up to his head in a nervous tic. “Scrap. He’s not responding to comms. We’ve got a problem.”  
  
“Problem?” asked Barricade curiously. “Couldn't it just be a comm glitch?”  
  
“Blast Off never misses a check-in," Brawl replied, "and he always responds to hails."  
  
"He also insists I always keep him supplied with the best comm gear I can scrounge up," Swindle added.  
  
“Right, so if he’s not responding, then something terrible’s happened to him, and we need to save him,” explained Vortex with a dark chuckle. “Oh, I’m never going to let him live this down.”  
  
“Barricade,” Onslaught barked, “you’re in charge until we get back. Keep an optic out. This could be a distraction.”  
  
"Of course," Barricade agreed, turning to head to the security center.  
  
“Combaticons, transform and roll out!” declared Onslaught dramatically.  
  
The Combaticons heeded the call and moved out, the gate rumbling open for Onslaught, Brawl, and Swindle. The Cybertronian mobile anti-air platform, tank, and light utility vehicle departed, with the light rotorcraft overhead.  
  
None of them noticed the two tiny figures hidden in the tall grass, even as they dashed in through the gate behind the Combaticons. As the gate slammed shut, Adam and Yang -- Sunfire -- took stock of their surroundings.  
  
"How long will they be able to hold them?" Adam asked.  
  
Yang shrugged. "Dunno. But I have faith in them."  
  
As the unlikely pair made their way towards the nearest building, Yang asked quietly, "So, now that we've got a moment, what can you do? If we're going to be watching each other's backs, it'd help if we know each others' capabilities."  
  
"With my sword, Wilt, I shall slice down the hierarchies of oppression," Adam whispered back. "Its scabbard is Blush and transforms into a shotgun to light the fires of revolution. I can use them in combination with my semblance, Moonslice, to absorb damage and throw it back at the unworthy twice as hard as they beatings they give to us. What do you bring to the table?"  
  
"Basically everything you do, Edgelord, but... not nearly as emo."  
  
They came to a large door emblazoned with a purple symbol that vaguely resembled a face, but one sharper and sterner than the Autobot symbol Yang wore on her jacket. The purple insignia in the door came to life, spinning 180 degrees and then sinking into the door, which then parted automatically to reveal a strange work area filled with industrial-looking equipment. There were many tubes, many containers full of dust, and more than a few shipping containers sporting the Schnee snowflake. More disturbing by far though were the dark stains on the floor, identifiable only by the metallic smell that pervaded the air.  
  
“Looks like they haven’t gotten around to cleaning up,” observed Adam.  
  
Yang held her tongue even as she could feel something hot and terrible welling up from the depths of her spar- soul.  
  
They made their way through the processing floor, careful to avoid touching anything. Along the way, they saw numerous copies of the purple symbol they'd seen on the door, obviously the Decepticon logo, stamped at least once on every piece of machinery in the warehouse. Said machinery was also constructed strangely, almost as if it could fall apart and reform at a moment’s notice.  
  
The pair eventually came upon a door that was significantly smaller than the others. This one didn't open automatically; instead, it seemed to have a manual latch. Said latch was, of course, sized and positioned for someone over twenty feet tall.  
  
“Get up on my shoulders, and get us in,” ordered Adam seriously.  
  
“Are you implying I’m not strong enough?” asked Yang, quite offended.  
  
Adam just stared at her, deadpan. "If you want to boost me up, be my guest."  
  
"Don't mind if I do," she said, reaching down and hefting him up by the ankle without any further ado.  
  
"Wha- hey!" Adam protested as he struggled to maintain his equilibrium. Once stabilized, he glanced down at and scowled, then turned to the latch. It was a simple thing, meant more to keep the door from swinging open by accident than as an anti-intrusion measure, but between the balancing act and the latch being designed for larger beings with significantly more leverage than he had available to him at the moment, it was a little tricky to get open without falling over.  
  
But get it open he did, and the door swung slowly away from the wall with nary a sound. Yang gently let Adam down, and the two scurried inside. The door was pulled closed after them, and they descended into darkness.  
  
“Got a problem with the dark?” Adam asked with a smirk.  
  
“Nope,” Yang answered, smirking back. “You might have noticed that I’m wearing a different set of glasses tonight. That’s because Ratchet fixed me up a special set just for this mission. Not only can I see in a whole new section of the electromagnetic spectrum, but I can also translate Cybertronian.”  
  
At this, the blonde walked over to the wall and tapped a section covered in a spiky purple script.  
  
“Which is how I know that we’re in Maintenance Crawlspace Nine,” she boasted. “As long as we don’t run into any of those Atlesian Knights Brock warned us about, we should be able to walk through the whole complex unmolested through these tunnels.”  
  
Adam made a motion with his head that made it seem like he was rolling his eyes. “Quite the braggart, I see.”  
  
“I have a lot to brag about,” replied Yang with a smirk.  
  
“Let’s just get a move on,” chided Adam.  
  
The pair moved thusly for a time, in a manner as swift as they dared, until they came upon a ramp and were forced to descend deeper into the ground until they came to a crossways in the passage. It was there that they saw several signs marking each branch of the path. Yang quickly began to translate.  
  
“Barracks, Communications, Warehouse, Security, Labor Storage,” listed Yang, the last coming out with undisguised hate. “Looks like we’ll have to pass through… 'Labor Storage' to get to Security. I think we better get going.”  
  
“Indeed,” concurred Adam before he took off in a run with Yang close on his heels. “Think the distraction is still going well?”  
  
“I’ll check, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Optimus has the others being a big easy target for the Decepticons,” answered Yang.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70TAZPStzQ)

  
It had been easy to find the culprits. The four Autobots stood brazenly out in the open, some distance outside the autoguns' programmed defense perimeter. They were easily visible from the ground, let alone Vortex's airborne vantage point, and they waited patiently as the three Combaticons approached.  
  
Onslaught transformed, as did Brawl to his right, and he heard Vortex transforming and landing behind him. He took a moment to survey the opposition: B-127, a scout with an irritatingly lucky record; Ironhide, brawler and weapons expert; Ratchet, medic; and of course, he couldn't forget Optimus slagging Prime himself.  
  
Onslaught had _really_ been hoping Barricade had been mistaken. He and his men were capable warriors, and he knew it… but Optimus Prime had faced down _Megatron_ and won as often as not.  
  
_You’d better not slag this up, Swindle,_ he thought, steeling his circuits as he faced the Prime. Brawl would be a good match up for Ironhide, and Vortex's aerial advantage should offset B-127's agility. That left the Prime and Ratchet for Onslaught himself, not that he would allow any of his men to face the Prime alone anyway; that was his burden to bear tonight.  
  
“Where’s Blast Off?” he demanded.  
  
“He is safe and unharmed,” the Autobot leader assured him, before making a point of looking around. “Where is Swindle?”  
  
“Someone has to hold down the fort,” Onslaught replied casually, putting on some bravado. A leader needed to project confidence, especially among the Decepticons.  
  
“Surrender, Onslaught,” the Prime demanded. “We have you outnumbered.”  
  
“I _had_ noticed the tactical deficiency, thank you, but we have our orders.”  
  
“Please, Onslaught,” the Prime urged. “No one has to die today. You have my word that you’ll be allowed to leave unharmed if you surrender the facility and prisoners to us.”  
  
The derisive snort came involuntarily, and after a moment’s hesitation, Onslaught went with it. They needed to buy Swindle time, after all. “You know, Sentinel Prime gave us his word too once, before he marched us out onto the fields of Simanzi. Back when the word of a Prime _meant_ something.”  
  
“Neither side walked away from Simanzi with clean hands, Onslaught,” the Prime said quietly. “The sacrifice of your people was a grave injustice that should never have happened.”  
  
Onslaught barked out a laugh. “You think we defected because of _that?_ ” He sneered. “You Autobots still don’t understand, even after all these megacycles. We’re _Combaticons_. We were _made_ to fight and die, we _survived_ the Crucible, and that operation _ended_ the Battle of Simanzi. Sentinel Prime made the right choice, sending us in, but he lied to our faceplates, betrayed us, then fled like a coward when we confronted him. Megatron, at least, respects us for who and what we are: soldiers. Our lives are meant to be spent.”  
  
"'Spent,'" the Prime said gently. "Not wasted." Onslaught felt a twitch at that. "You need Blast Off and Swindle to form Bruticus. This is a battle you cannot win.”  
  
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Onslaught bluffed. “After the Crucible, I’ve always wanted to kill a Prime. Sentinel Prime, preferably, but since he’s already dead, you’ll do.”  
  
"I may fall, Onslaught,” the Prime said, “but it won’t be tonight, and it won’t be by your hand.”  
  
Choom!  
  
An energy blast from Onslaught's right lanced out and struck the Prime in the shoulder, sending him twisting but leaving him otherwise largely unharmed, protected by his structural integrity field. Onslaught turned and glared at Brawl, who shrugged.  
  
"What?" Brawl asked defensively. "All the talking was done, right? I mean, that sure _sounded_ like the cue to start the fight to me."  
  
" _Everything_ sounds like a cue to start a fight to you," Onslaught muttered. Nothing for it, then. He raised his voice. "Combaticons! Attack!"  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please come join us on our Discord server, [Sapphire Sparks](https://discord.gg/acKKNXR).
> 
> **Author's Note 1 (Cyclone):**
> 
> So... yeah. You know how every writer seems to have those moments when the characters just... take over a scene, regardless of whatever the writer had planned? Well, that happened to me this chapter. Except, in addition to doing whatever the hell he wanted, Onslaught apparently decided to go ahead and _write his own backstory_ without consulting me on it. I had no idea Sentinel Prime actually even _existed_ in this continuity (that he's still a colossal dick is unsurprising, though), nor did it ever occur to me that the Combaticons might have ever once been Autobots.
> 
> You can blame Cody for us going full Hasbro.
> 
> **Author's Note 2 (Cody MacArthur Fett):**
> 
> You might be able to blame me, but writing that Huntsmen scene was like pulling teeth. I can only imagine how bad it would have been if we didn't have prerendered characters to go off of. Indeed, this turn provides a solution to character creation issues for the foreseeable future.


	6. V1E6: The Battle of Site 13, Part II

**Volume I: Episode 6: The Battle of Site 13, Part II**  
  
* * * 

  
“They’ve engaged the Decepticons,” reported Yang as the pair moved into the ‘labor storage’ building. “Did say that Swindle and Lugnut weren't with them though, so we should watch out for them.”  
  
“Swindle. Know anything about him?” asked Adam as they passed a door. He'd heard plenty enough about Lugnut on the way here.  
  
“Only that he’s apparently just as likely to try and catch us to sell on the black market as he is to blast us,” said the blonde as she slowly came to a stop in front of the door. "He's a real 'Con job."  
  
Adam paused, turning back around to glare at her in the darkness. “What are you doing?”  
  
Yang’s voice was a curious combination of morbid interest, trembling fear, and perilous rage as she spoke, “I just think that we should check on the prisoners before rushing off. They might be hurt, and Ratchet will need to prepare for them.”  
  
“I brought enough medics to the staging ground that the White Fang should be able to handle everyone here,” countered the masked redhead, defending his organization. “Now let’s focus on the mission.”  
  
"It's not just about medical care," she insisted. "It's about hope."  
  
Yang suspected that with his keen eyes he could see her then, glaring back at him. She wanted it that way. She wanted him to see the utter contempt she held him in for not prioritizing the safety of the civilians first. They were, after all, what he was supposedly fighting for.  
  
_Besides_ , she thought with a mighty leap onto the door to pry open the latch on her own, _I need to see this._  
  
The latch opened, just in time for Yang to fall back to the floor into a crouch. She moved swiftly, barely dodging what she imagined to be one of Adam’s grasping hands as she slid through the gap in the door and out into the open. As she did so, she came face to face with something that did not wholly surprise her: more utter darkness and the glowing red lines of an activated Atlesian Knight-130.  
  
“Intruder, identify yourself,” the mechanical menace requested in a voice devoid of all emotion and feeling.  
  
Yang’s reply was to curl her fingers into a fist and deliver a mighty punch that not only sent the AK-130 back but also sent her hand deep into its chest to pierce its glowing dust core. The blonde wrenched her hand back, and with it came a few bits of scrap that had caught on Ember Celica. Her victim dropped like the puppet it was, and in response, a great host of glowing red visors snapped into place before turning to stare at her.  
  
A wordless snarl came from Yang’s mouth, something deep and terrible and far older and angrier than anything had the right to be. With that snarl, she launched herself into the battle with a recoil boost. Her fist came down again, and another red light went dark.  
  
They moved now to encompass her and box her in, but she would not heed their plans. Close enough as she was now, she leapt with legs only to strike them down. A few managed to open fire with their guns, but too few, far too few, of those bullets managed to hit her, pinging against her aura like leaves against a wall on a windy day. Such was their lack of effect that when she struck them with fist and shot-gauntlet at close range, they switched to using balled fists and blades deployed from their arms.  
  
The battle was joined, and as she danced from one dead opponent to the next that, though just as dead, hadn't yet realized it, she could not help but feel a rush. The circumstances of why she was there were forgotten, and only the joy of combat remained. It was exciting, thrilling even, and she loved it so.  
  
There was a bang, a flash of red, a flying pommel, and suddenly, a new combatant entered the field. Adam Taurus leapt with merciless intent upon the android foes, striking with swift, sure strokes of his blade. He was in his element just as much as Yang was, though he seemed to take both far less and more pleasure in it than she, a note of sadism in his expression.  
  
It unsettled Yang, but she didn't dwell on it. There wasn't time, not now. Whatever there was to be discussed, it could wait until the battle was over.  
  
The foes were many, but as soon as the two intruders began to work in concert, they fell like wheat before the scythe. Like two parts of a combined whole, they moved in near-perfect synchronicity. Later, though, if anyone had asked, both would have insisted it was just the result of the other staying out of the way.  
  
The last AK-130 fell to the ground in a lifeless, sparkless heap. Hmm, sparkless? Was she spending too much time around the Autobots, or was that just normal picking up of the lingo?  
  
Whatever the case was, Yang was finally able to take stock of her surroundings. What she saw then…  
  
Cages, row upon row, and stack upon stack of cages. There were catwalks to access the upper ones, sparsely placed and mostly disconnected from each other, presumably to give the Decepticons room to maneuver if needed. Cells? Not all of them were filled, but many of them were. The acrid, metallic smell she'd noticed earlier was much stronger now, mixed with a whiff of the acidic and sulfuric odor of urine and feces.  
  
The people inside those cells were dirty, some diseased, and all haggard and emaciated. They had been woken up by the fighting, clearly. Some of them sported visible injuries. All had a haunted look in their eyes, like they were dead inside.  
  
She felt her soul, and her hair, ignite as her wrath was enkindled.  
  
The activation of her semblance had an odd effect though, for even a minor lighting such as that produced illumination enough to put her body in profile. In the dim light, the Autobot brand on the shoulders and back of her jacket were made visible. The sight of that symbol seemed to wash away the fear and despair in the eyes of those who saw it.  
  
One of the prisoners, young in face but gnarled in hand, pointed one bony finger at her. “By the Mother's Embrace, she’s an Autobot!”  
  
That word sparked an excited murmur.  
  
"Autobot?"  
  
"Did he say 'Autobot'?"  
  
"You mean from the damned lectures?"  
  
“The Autobots are here! We’re saved!”  
  
The man who pointed her out spoke again, somehow coming in over the waking din. “Tell us, m’lady. Who are you? Are there any others of your kind here?”  
  
Yang smiled, a soft calming gesture, and assured him, “My name is Sunfire, and yes, I’m with the Autobots. Even as we speak, another group of us, led by Optimus Prime, is battling the Decepticon defenders of this place.”  
  
If the revelation of the Autobots being present caused another wave of cheer to spread throughout the cavernous room, then the speaking of that name had an effect altogether greater and more profound.  
  
“Optimus _Prime?_ We've heard of the Primes! The- the Decepticon said they were all dead, that Megatron had killed them all.”  
  
On and on the clamor went, and for a moment, Yang too was caught in the joy. Then she looked upon them again, and her fury returned tenfold. She took in the full width and breath of things, and resolved to end this once and for all. What she was seeing, what she found too horrible to even comprehend fully, she could stand no longer.  
  
“You’re going to get us out of here, right, Ms. Sunfire?” asked a young, scarred girl with a bushy squirrel tail who reminded Yang far too much of Ruby.  
  
Yang drew back her fist to smite the lock of the nearest cell, but a hand like a striking snake caught it. She turned her head, and found Adam stopping her.  
  
“Are you insane?” he hissed. “If we haven’t set off the security already, then busting open the locks certainly will. And I don’t like the look of those nozzles in the ceiling nearly enough to think that’s a good idea.”  
  
Yang noticed then the nozzles he mentioned and felt a new level of apoplectic rage come upon her when her glasses analyzed it and found trace amounts of a highly potent acid upon it. She was going blind with rage, and while almost all of it was directed at the Decepticons, she couldn’t keep some of it from leaking at the one holding onto her at that moment and telling her to calm down. Calm? How could she be calm? Why would she be calm?  
  
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she yelled at Adam, her golden mane becoming a blazing inferno that bathed the cavernous room entirely in flickering firelight at her words. "How can you be so calm about this?!"  
  
"Because I've seen worse!" he snapped. "I've _lived_ it! I got out, but if we act recklessly here, they _won't!_ "  
  
“And if we do nothing then they’ll be stuck here,” Yang shot back, her hair seeming to take on a solar quality. “I swore an oath to defend them. I cannot, will not, _ever_ break that oath.”  
  
"That's why we're here, _remember?_ " Adam reminded her, exasperation in his voice. "But we need to make sure we don't end up _killing_ them trying, you impulsive, hotheaded, reckless bitch!"  
  
That seemed to touch something in Yang, and though it took a few seconds, the fire of her locks began to grow cool.  
  
She exhaled softly, and then she finally replied, “Sorry. I got a little carried away there. Let’s take out that security station.”  
  
“'A little carried away'?” he asked sarcastically as he let go and they turned to get moving. “You looked ready to tear this whole place apart with your bare teeth.”  
  
“I still am,” responded Yang with deadly coolness. “You’re right though. I’ll end up causing another Grindcore, not prevent it, if I keep acting like that.”  
  
“'Grindcore'?” asked Adam with a bit of curiosity.  
  
“A Decepticon prison camp on Cybertron,” answered Yang. “The inmates were worked to death, tortured, poisoned, promised freedom if they worked hard enough, only to be smelted alive instead."  
  
"That's insane," Adam hissed.  
  
"This place…" Yang said, "it's obviously not the same, but you're right. Gotta keep my head on straight, or these people are going to pay the price."  
  
“A human caring about faunus,” he mused. “Now _that_ is unbelievable.”  
  
"There were humans here too," a voice from behind intruded. They turned, and it was the girl from before. She pointed at one of the cages. "Not many, though. That was Mason's cell."  
  
Yang looked at the cell. There was a shape or two, but no heat signatures. She clenched a fist. "What happened?" she asked, her voice cold.  
  
"He- he was part of an escape attempt," the girl answered. "There- there was a Grimm attack. A Beowolf got on the car they hijacked, and he- he tackled it off so Brock and the others could get away."  
  
"Decepticons don't offer much in the way of health care here," another prisoner, male, added bitterly. "I don't think they get how fragile we are compared to them. Or care."  
  
“There were other humans here too, but, well, the Decepticons called it ‘attritional losses,’” said another sadly. "They keep the lights low, and… accidents happen."  
  
Yang turned and saw that Adam still did not believe. She decided to ignore him. That lasted until they back into the alleged crawlspace.  
  
“The Decepticons don’t care about humans or faunus,” she said grimly. “We have to stand as one or fall divided.”  
  
Adam scoffed. “Empty words. Come on, let’s see what Lugnut and this Swindle are made out of.”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70TAZPStzQ)

  
As Swindle traced the signal from the hidden, _third_ emergency transponder Blast Off had, he wasn't surprised to find his fellow Combaticon restrained and guarded.  
  
"Jazz," he greeted cheerfully. No point trying to hide, not from his approach over the grass. Besides, while Jazz was as fanatical about the war as any other Autobot or Decepticon, he was at least willing to be reasonable and make a deal on occasion.  
  
"Swindle," the Autobot special operations commander replied, rising to his feet and dusting off his legs. "Haven't seen you since Simfur."  
  
"Yeah, it's been a while," Swindle agreed. "Blast Off?" he asked, glancing at his teammate, who responded to the attention by struggling with his bindings and saying… something that was muffled into incoherence by the electronic muzzle strapped to his face.  
  
"Kickin' his feet up for a bit," Jazz replied cheekily. "I'd say he's a nonparticipant in tonight's festivities."  
  
Swindle considered his options. He may be a Combaticon, but for all that the rest of the team wore that badge with honor -- and, to be fair, so did Swindle... when it suited him -- he wasn't particularly fond of fighting.  
  
And _everyone_ had their vices.  
  
"Say," he said, "I've picked up some Atlesian technopop since last time, if you're interested." He took a moment to play a teasing few seconds from [an audio file](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ili_HdPj8Ik).  
  
"Got some fine tunes, huh?" Jazz mused, then shook his head. "Sorry, cat, can't do that, not tonight. Tonight's all official business."  
  
Swindle shrugged. "Eh, was worth a try."  
  
Then he dove to the side, bringing his scatter blaster up and snapping off a shot. The battle was joined.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iY49JZoLZj8)

  
_Annoying little…_ Vortex thought as he pursued B-127. The little yellow-plated scout was in his alt-mode, some local civilian wheeled vehicle, and was swerving back and forth through the tall grass they had left outside the turrets’ killzone, spoiling Vortex's aim as the rotorcraft Combaticon pursued at low altitude.  
  
Frustrated, Vortex switched his blaster to adhesive rounds and fired a spread ahead of B-127, but the little Autobot simply boosted up, transforming and twisting in mid-air to tag Vortex's nose with his energon battle pistol before returning to his alt-mode and landing on the far side of the adhesive barrier Vortex had laid down before him. Vortex responded by pulling up to gain some altitude, then dive-bombing with a salvo of thermo-molecular bombs that cratered the landscape and rattled the scout's circuits.  
  
"Ironhide!" B-127 called out. "I could use some help here!"  
  
"I'm a little busy here, B!" the Autobot weapons expert replied as he tried to extricate himself from the grip Brawl's left hand had on him, while keeping the Combaticon's _right_ hand away from his faceplate. A stasis blaster bolt struck Brawl's back, but the big Decepticon shrugged it off and looked over his shoulder at Ratchet. "I'll take you _both_ on!" he roared, shifting his grip on Ironhide and hurling the Autobot overhead into the medic.  
  
Sometimes, there were advantages to Brawl's hotheaded recklessness, but Onslaught couldn't spare the processing power to thank him for taking some of the pressure off. He was too busy trying to stay alive. The Prime's ion blaster was nothing to mess around with, and he definitely didn't want to get in close either. And yet, he'd _still_ managed to underestimate the Prime.  
  
The big red Autobot was coming at him with an energon axe, a big one too, so he fired off a stun blast from his sonic blaster -- its stun mode was something he usually used more to discipline Brawl than for combat, but while less lethal, it tended to have better impact on tougher targets... like Brawl -- and the Prime flinched, his grip on the axe loosening. Onslaught saw an opening and kicked the axe out of his opponent's grip. Before he could go into a follow up, though, a blade as big as his arm deployed from the Prime’s wrist.  
  
Onslaught was forced to jump back to avoid the short, sharp lesson that the Prime clearly wanted to teach him. He continued backpedaling, even as he lowered the twin gun-launcher barrels down over his shoulders. Optimized for anti-aircraft work, they were hardly ideal for this: flak warheads would hit, but the Prime was too tough for that, while the anti-shipping warheads lacked the accuracy.  
  
He fired anyway, and the Prime dodged the two anti-ship projectiles. Designed to punch through starship armor, the two missiles were unable to keep track of the Prime… but that was fine, as they instead plowed into the ground, throwing up dirt and debris that obscured Vortex from the view of B-127, who had since shifted to bot-mode.  
  
Bumblebee, for his part, backed away from the debris cloud, looking for the rotorcraft Combaticon, his energon battle pistol sweeping the skies. He wasn't prepared for Vortex to tackle him from ground level.  
  
_I hope Yang's having better luck,_ he thought as he struggled under Vortex's mass and tried to bring his pistol to bear.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
The pair of infiltrators worked their way to the security station and exited out of the crawlspace and into the hallway. A quartet of AK-130s stood guard in the hall. They didn't last long.  
  
As they stepped over the bodies of the fallen androids, Adam’s attention was drawn to a nearby door, much larger than the entrance to the crawlspace.  
  
“This what we’re looking for?” he asked curiously.  
  
Yang looked up and focused slightly. “Sign says 'Armory.' We better keep going.”  
  
“Now, now. Let’s not be too hasty,” he said placatingly as he gave a long glance towards the door.  
  
Yang rolled her eyes. “Oh, fine. I was told these glasses have a hacking feature, so I might as well test that.”  
  
She activated the aforementioned feature and quickly found an unfamiliar screen popping up in front of her with the words “Automatic Hacking in Progress” underneath it. Moments later, the Decepticon emblem in the door spun and depressed, and the door parted, revealing its contents. Surprisingly, the lights of the room came on automatically, nearly blinding them.  
  
When the spots cleared, they found themselves looking into a room with row upon row of guns. They were blocky affairs, lined up perfectly in racks along the walls. On the opposite wall was a motivational poster proclaiming that the weapons were to be used for the glory of Lord Megatron, complete with a picture of a grey and black, broad-shouldered Decepticon pointing a giant cannon mounted to his arm at the viewer.  
  
“Oh, come on,” Adam complained.  
  
Yang snorted. "Giant alien robots, remember?" she asked mockingly. ”Giant alien weapons. What exactly were you expecting?"  
  
“They don’t even have something for the androids here?” asked Adam.  
  
"Well, we've only seen AK One-Thirties, and they all use built-in weapons, so I guess not,” Yang said. “Just lots of...” and here she tilted her head to the side to read what was written on the weapons, “...'neutron assault rifles.'”  
  
“Sounds powerful,” commented the bullish faunus.  
  
Yang looked at him skeptically. "You don't even know what that means. If they were really that good, would they have left them here when they went to fight the Autobots?"  
  
Suddenly, the pair heard the sound of another door opening followed by heavy metallic thuds. Thinking quickly, they moved as one to duck inside and cover the door, taking the same side that the sounds were coming from so that they wouldn't be immediately seen. They got into position just as the Barricade's towering form stomped in.  
  
“What the scrap is going on in here?!” bellowed the Decepticon as he looked about the armory. “Drones destroyed, doors hacked, and now-”  
  
Thwack!  
  
He never got to finish his sentence, for at that moment, Adam completed his aiming sequence and fired Wilt out of Blush to hit Barricade in the side of the head.  
  
“Ow!” the black and grey Decepticon complained as he turned his glowing red optics onto the two organics. “Oh, you humans have some serious bearings on you.”  
  
Yang didn’t give him a chance to do anything more, recoil-boosting to punch Barricade straight in the jaw and out of the room.  
  
“They’re called balls, and yes I do!” Yang declared hotly.  
  
“That punch,” realized Barricade as he staggered back up. “I recognize that punch. _You_. I should have known you were an Autobot. Who are you?”  
  
Yang gave a psychotic grin. This was _exhilarating_. “The name’s Sunfire.”  
  
“I’ll try to remember that.”  
  
And with those words, Barricade dashed back into the armory and snatched one of the neutron assault rifles off the nearby rack, bringing the weapon to bear on Sunfire. A squeeze of the trigger, and suddenly, the air was filled with neutron pellets… that all missed completely.  
  
“Brilliant,” complained Adam as he resheathed Wilt and they hid in the hall. “We were _supposed_ to run while he was distracted."  
  
Yang stared. "Communication! It's a thing! You should try it sometime!"  
  
"Well, excuse me, but my _last_ partner at least knew when to run!"  
  
"Sounds to me like that's _all_ she knew how to do!"  
  
The storm of subatomic particles stopped, and Barricade leapt around the door. In one surprisingly swift movement, Yang was knocked to the other end of the hall. Adam, on the other hand, was knocked into the wall on the opposite side of the hall, bouncing off to land on the ground.  
  
Barricade brought down one metallic hand and pinned Adam to the ground. “Ah ha! Nowhere to run now, little human.”  
  
“Faunus,” Adam corrected defiantly.  
  
“...what?” Barricade blinked.  
  
“Faunus. I’m a faunus,” Adam said angrily, glaring up at the Decepticon with his masked face.  
  
“Faunus," Barricade repeated. "Right. Err, what's the difference again?”  
  
Ka-chink. Bang!  
  
Barricade’s head, and the rest of his body, was sent spinning by the yellow shot-gauntleted fist of Yang Xiao Long. Her hair was still on fire when she slid to a stop near Adam. She turned and offered him a grim smile.  
  
“I told you. The Decepticons don’t care about humans or faunus. They just care about taking over the universe,” she repeated, offering out her hand to him to get him up.  
  
Reluctantly, Adam took her hand and allowed her to pull him to his feet.  
  
“That’s not true!” protested Barricade as he got off the ground again. “I also care about destroying Autobot scum like you!”  
  
He reached back through the armory doors and came out with a second neutron assault rifle for his other hand.  
  
Yang's eyes widened. "Run."  
  
" _Finally_ , some sense," Adam muttered as they turned and ran down the long hallway, zig-zagging to make for harder targets.  
  
Twin streams of neutron pellets chased them, but their accuracy left something to be desired, much to Barricade's frustration. Neutron assault rifles were the most common weapon in the latter days of the Great War -- _after_ most of Cybertron's industrial capacity was gutted -- for a reason, and that reason was _not_ their overall quality. Dumping a few dozen here as a "just in case" measure seemed like a good idea -- it's not like the Decepticons were short on them -- but Barricade sometimes privately wondered if the point was to _let_ the Autobots steal them.  
  
He snarled as the two weapons clicked empty and tossed them aside, and shifted his hand into his usual sidearm, an energon battle pistol. Smaller targets plus the increased range meant he'd need the extra precision. He aimed carefully and fired.  
  
The round hit near Sunfire, and the tiny Autobot was sent sprawling onto the floor. Blast, that was the second time he’d done that; if he was going to keep running into these Mini-Cons, he'd have to spend more time at the range. Ah, well, that’s what follow-up shots were for.  
  
He fired again, and _this_ time, the round was intercepted by the human in black and his sword. Amazingly, the human _wasn’t_ vaporized. In fact, he looked downright intact.  
  
“Oh, come on!” Barricade complained as he fired twice more, and each time it was intercepted by the sword.  
  
On the floor, Yang found her swirling vision looking upon Adam defending her. “I think I’m hallucinating.”  
  
“Welcome to my world,” Adam chuckled.  
  
Yang smiled as she got up fully. “Thanks. Need an assist?”  
  
“No, you get the security systems. I’ll take care of…?” he trailed off, looking at the Decepticon.  
  
“Barricade!” shouted the Decepticon as he advanced on them.  
  
Adam smiled joyously. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. What are those again?” he mocked.  
  
Barricade growled in response and transformed into a Vale PD cruiser that sped towards them. Yang recoil boosted up into the air and out of the way, while Adam merely jumped out of the way, preferring the less flashy option.  
  
Barricade slid past them and transformed before he hit the door to the outside. Adam drew Wilt in reply, and the whole world seemed to shift into red and black. There was a cutting splash of color, and suddenly, the Decepticon found himself hit with a massive wave of energy. He still stood, but the door behind him fell into two pieces.  
  
“He survived?!” Adam blurted out before realizing his mistake. “Oh, right. Giant alien robots, giant alien auras.”  
  
He ran then past Barricade and into the cool night air.  
  
Noticing the little swordfighter leaping past him, Barricade turned into the yard and transmitted, "Onslaught, we have a problem."  
  
_"Of_ course _we do. Primus, I hope Swindle has better news. Sitrep?"_  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iY49JZoLZj8)

  
"I'm _working_ on it," Swindle replied testily as he watched Jazz warily.  
  
The fact was, the two tended to fight pretty conservatively, which led to a bit of a stalemate. For Swindle, it was a matter of prudence, while for Jazz, it was a sign of his general laid-back attitude. Fortunately, Swindle didn't need to _beat_ Jazz, though the spec ops commander had foiled his attempts to outmaneuver him so far.  
  
Swindle sighed. Time to break out the _expensive_ munitions, then.  
  
Hmm, nucleon charge rifle, too close. Thermo mines, no. Magma frag launcher, overkill. Ah ha!  
  
"I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, Jazz," Swindle said mildly, before side-slinging a spread of grenades in the Autobot's general direction.  
  
Jazz jumped back and to the side, bringing up his arms to shield his face. Had there been one grenade instead of five, he might have escaped, and had they been frag grenades, he would have been able to minimize the damage, but instead, Swindle had thrown EMP grenades. Jazz's hardened systems prevented him from suffering the paralysis that would have affected some of the cheaper lines of MTO troops from later in the war, but the combined effect of the two he was still in range of still scrambled his sensitive optics briefly. On instinct, Jazz backed off, keeping his arms up, before he reversed his movement and began firing randomly with his photon rifle in an effort to keep Swindle at bay.  
  
The Decepticon “scavenger” took advantage of the randomness of fire to skedaddle on into vehicle mode. He rushed behind Blast Off and transformed once more. His hands free, he made short work of his compatriot’s restraints.  
  
“About time!” Blast Off complained as he pulled the muzzle off. “I thought the two of you would keep bantering around each other all night!”  
  
“You should try it sometime; it’s fun!” contradicted Swindle cheerfully. "Besides, I always make time for my valued customers."  
  
There was the snapping sound of a gun arming, and the pair suddenly found themselves staring down the barrel of Jazz’s photon rifle.  
  
“Nice slice, cats, but this night’s performance will have to take a slide on down to the Hotel Vacuo, ya dig?” the Autobot said as he steadied his aim.  
  
“He’s going to shoot us,” Swindle translated.  
  
“Yeah, I got that,” Blast Off replied. "Just hold on"  
  
“Hold on? Hold on to what?” Swindle asked a split second before it happened.  
  
Blast Off shifted and transformed into his vehicle form, leaping into the air as he did so. Swindle gripped his teammate’s wings on instinct and was still holding onto them when his teammate finished his transformation. He was still holding on when Blast Off's transatmospheric engines finally drowned out his screaming.  
  
Blast Off, for his part, was focused on his destination. From altitude, it was simple enough to spot the battlefield, and he brought his nose down into a dive, slinging Swindle toward where B-127 dangled from Vortex's back even as he himself banked and strafed the Prime with his forward-fixed X-ray lasers.  
  
"Combaticons!" a battered Onslaught bellowed. "Unite!"  
  
It was their only chance.  
  
"Autobots!" Prime snapped back as he charged Onslaught. Ironhide and Ratchet similarly stopped struggling to escape Brawl's grip and shifted to trying to pin him down, even as Brawl tried to extricate himself. B-127 scuttled around Vortex; lacking the mass to hold the larger Combaticon in place, he kept himself tangled up in Vortex's limbs and rotors.  
  
Onslaught dove aside, spinning to blast the chaotic melee Brawl was caught in with his sonic blaster, this time set to wide dispersal stun. Brawl shook off the stunning effect, recovering before the two Autobots, and charged away to his own position. Swindle abandoned his effort to get a clear shot at B-127 and joined him, the two Combaticons shifting into their third modes: a pair of legs.  
  
Onslaught launched himself into the air, shifting his own form into a torso, another head emerging, while Blast Off linked up as the right arm, reaching down to pluck B-127 off Vortex, flinging the scout aside and freeing Vortex to connect as the left arm.  
  
"Autobots!" Prime ordered. "Transform and roll out!"  
  
Bruticus had entered the fight.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70TAZPStzQ)

  
Barricade was trying to exit the fight; he had a bad feeling about whatever the little Autobot was up to. It was a task made all the harder by the tiny little human who insisted on not being called a human slashing at him, shooting at him, and absorbing his shots. All with that fancy sword of his.  
  
The Decepticon knew one thing about it, though: he had to get himself one of those.  
  
Then, suddenly, he caught movement in the corner of his optic.  
  
The turrets on the battlements and walls were turning towards him, transforming into the “hyperkill” mode Lugnut had insisted on installing.  
  
"Aw, scrap."  
  
He bolted for the front gate, switching into his alt-mode, and floored it.  
  
"You're not getting away from me!" Adam roared as he saw the Decepticon turning to flee. He pumped his legs and leapt on top of the police car, catching the rear spoiler and slowly pulling himself up, inch by inch.  
  
"Are you crazy?!" the Decepticon demanded.  
  
_"Adam, jump off!"_ Sunfire's voice came over Adam's communicator, but he ignored her suggestion.  
  
"I'm not letting him get away!"  
  
The front gate ground open ahead of them, and Adam held on as the Decepticon swerved to try to shake him off.  
  
"Oh, you've got to be _kidding_ me!"  
  
Adam looked up at the Decepticon's exclamation, only to see the convoy of Autobots racing toward them, and behind them…  
  
No, it couldn't be behind them. If it was, it would have to be…  
  
But it was. An even bigger giant robot, stomping after the Autobots with a massive stride that devoured the hundreds of yards between them. It made all those that came before look like dwarfs, and its body… the body was made up of the other Decepticons he had seen that night.  
  
So, this was one of the combiners that Optimus Prime had spoken of.  
  
This… this was a whole new scale. He hadn't felt this… small… in a very long time.  
  
A deep whirring noise filled the air, and he turned his head to look over his shoulder. The top of the communications tower was transforming into the biggest gun he had ever seen in his life. The weapon looked to be half the size of an Atlesian air cruiser, and it was beginning to glow as it lowered to point directly at him.  
  
_“Adam,”_ Sunfire’s voice came over the comms again. _“Get off. The Decepticon._ Now _."_  
  
The faunus rebel coiled his legs and jumped. The Autobots were rushing past at that point, and he aimed for them. With skill and more than a little luck, he landed in the bed of the red pickup truck.  
  
“Fancy meeting you here, pardner,” Ironhide said evenly in that accented drawl of his.  
  
“Just drive,” Adam growled.  
  
“Yeesh. Youngsters, these days. You’d think you were just protoformed yesterday. Why, back in my time-”  
  
Adam groaned. “You’re enjoying this.”  
  
“Immensely,” was Ironhide’s immediate reply.  
  
Suddenly, the valley vanished in a blinding flash of light, and as Adam blinked the spots from his eyes, he turned to look back. The combiner had fallen to one knee, and as he watched, it broke apart into its components, who joined Barricade in his flight.  
  
He sighed. "It's over."  
  
"Fer now," Ironhide amended.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
Ratchet felt something as he scanned the people coming out of the prison. Whatever it was, he ignored it. He'd devoured the medical texts Yang had provided, but this would be the first time he applied that knowledge. There was a difference between theoretical knowledge and practical skills, after all, and he couldn't afford to let such emotions interfere with his work. Not when lives were on the line.  
  
Most people found it cruel, and they couldn’t understand why he did it. That was okay, though, because they were all alive to complain. These people might be scared or afraid too, but they still had burning sparks to feel those emotions, and that was what mattered.  
  
“Ratchet, how bad is it?” Optimus asked as he came up alongside him.  
  
The prisoners were staring at his leader with a look of awe and wonder, as if he was Prima himself come back from the dead. He made a note to laugh about that later. He couldn’t feel now, but later was fine.  
  
“Honestly, they got off lucky. They’re in bad shape, but it’s the sort of bad shape that comes from apathy and ignorance, not the usual Decepticon malice. We should be thanking Primus right now that the Decepticons haven’t found a material use for any of the species of this world yet,” reported the doctor as he continued to move his scanner over them. "More like the Nibari than the Prysmosians, at least. Small blessings, there."  
  
“'Lucky'?!” an outraged Adam roared. “Are you blind?!”  
  
“No,” Yang replied. “He’s just seen far worse. The Decepticons could have been _recycling them alive_ instead.”  
  
Adam turned her. " _What?_  
  
"Remember when I mentioned Grindcore?" she asked. "Why do you think they were smelting prisoners?"  
  
Good kid, that Yang. Ratchet still wasn’t quite sure about her fighting alongside them, and Bumblebee had obviously been sharing some of the more questionable war stories from Cybertron, but she was proving her worth very quickly in his optics. Though if she turned out to be a mini-Cliffjumper like Jazz said, he was going to have to have words with her with about abusing her infirmary privileges with insane over-the-top stunts.  
  
If nothing else, she certainly fit the name she had chosen for herself. Sunfire, very Autobot of her. He wondered if she would make it official or if it would just remain a cover.  
  
He finished his scans and began preparing his prognoses. These people needed to know what to do on their own. He would only be able to do so much with so many.  
  
Over the mountain, he could see the White Fang VTOLs cresting the hills in the light of the broken moon. This, of course, resulted in a new round of bickering between Adam and Yang. The difference, this time, was that the other Autobots and the patients got in on the discussion too.  
  
“Those will be my Bullheads coming to pick us up now,” said Adam.  
  
“‘Your Bullheads’?” asked one of the older Vacuans, a tall, antlered man with broad shoulders. “Who are you, anyway?"  
  
Adam frowned. "I'm Adam Taurus, leader of the Vale White Fang."  
  
An uncomfortable murmur rippled through the crowd, and the tension thickened.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I think we'd rather go with the Autobots," the antlered Vacuan said.  
  
"What?" Adam repeated, baffled. "But… we're the White Fang. We're fighting for all faunuskind."  
  
"Fighting for yourselves, you mean!" another voice jeered from the crowd.  
  
Optimus lowered himself to one knee and shook his head. "I would gladly welcome you into our protection, my friends, but we lack the infrastructure to care for you." He waved a hand at the base. "Much of the hardship you faced here is because the Decepticons lack the facilities and resources to care for your species… the same facilities and resources we Autobots lack ourselves. It saddens me to admit it, but I fear you would fare little better in our care than you have with the Decepticons."  
  
"But…" the man looked over at Adam uncertainly.  
  
"It is an alliance of necessity," Optimus said. "There is, I'm sure, more to the White Fang than their more… public exploits."  
  
"We have contacts," Adam said begrudgingly. "People who can get you the right papers, some lien to get started, help you get settled in here in Vale. Or transport back to Vacuo if you prefer, but that'll take longer."  
  
"I dunno…"  
  
"If you like," Yang interjected, "I can give you all my contact info. If they mess with you, call me."  
  
"Or me," Jazz added. Yang looked at him curiously. Weren't his hands too big to use a scroll? The Autobot gave a knowing smile and tapped the side of his head. "Chill, girl. I'm tapped in."  
  
The antlered man let out a resigned sigh. "I suppose that'll have to work," he agreed sullenly.  
  
Unseen, Adam frowned.  
  
Optimus rose to his feet. "Ironhide, get as much energon as you can carry. With the Combaticons active and the amount of energon stockpiled here, we'll need the Aerialbots out of stasis before the night is done."  
  
"You got it, Prime."  
  
“As for the rest of us, we’ll cover the evacuation and then begin salvage operations.”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
There was a knock on Team RWBY's dormitory door. When Ruby answered it, Jaune stuck his head in and looked around, noting Blake on her bed, reading a book, and Weiss working on something on a portable terminal. "Where's Yang?" he asked.  
  
"Out," Ruby replied, annoyed. "Again."  
  
Jaune slipped into the room and closed the door behind him.  
  
“'Out'? Classes start in, like, ten minutes.”  
  
“I know,” Ruby said with a note of anger. “She’s been gone since last night. Now, what’s up?”  
  
"It's about the thing," he said. "Pyrrha's contact came through. We have a lead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please come join us on our Discord server, [Sapphire Sparks](https://discord.gg/acKKNXR).
> 
> **Author's Note 1 (Cyclone):**
> 
> I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I'm not quite able to put my finger on why. Anyway, before anyone asks, yes, Cody and I had been playing quite a bit of _War for Cybertron_ lately when we wrote this
> 
> **Author's Note 2 (Cody MacArthur Fett):**
> 
> If the Huntsmen scene from last chapter was a pain to write then the battle scenes from this one were something worse entirely. Still, we got the job done, and things turned out reasonably well. Like Cyclone though, things don't particularly sit right with me here, as if it could be more, but I'm not sure how.


	7. V1E7: Aftermath

  
**Volume I: Episode 7: Aftermath**  
  
* * *

  
Yang felt her steps very heavily as she plodded through the halls of Beacon. She had just managed to get into her dorm and change into her uniform... her school uniform, that is; her Autobot uniform was with Bumblebee after she had changed into the casual outfit she had used for the ruse at Maple’s. She would have to start keeping a spare school uniform either with Bumblebee or in one of the caches her family had hidden around the city.  
  
The Autobots' mission to Site 13 was still ongoing, but she had been sent back with the first convoy out as soon as the Aerialbots had appeared. She had wanted to stay on and continue helping to break down the base, but after being awake for over twenty-four hours, she was starting to run on adrenaline herself. She had gotten some sleep on the drive back, but that had been interrupted.  
  
Still, at least she had gotten to see the Aerialbots arrive. They were… they were…  
  
The growling of her stomach interrupted her thoughts, and she clutched her stomach instinctively. Of course, she had forgotten to pack food, and so in addition to being awake for the last thirty-one hours, she also hadn’t eaten anything in over twenty-four hours. She might have been trained to survive that, but it was still poor planning on her part. On the plus side, it meant she didn't have anything in her stomach to throw up when they'd found…  
  
Still, if her dad could see her now, she would be given such a dressing down, and she would deserve it too. It was a thought that brought her a strange sort of comfort as she entered the classroom for Botany, which they had after lunch. Perhaps if she was lucky, today Professor Thumbelina Peach would teach them how to brew a stew from plants found in the wild that would keep you filled and active for days on end. Wouldn’t that be ironic?  
  
She sat down in her chair and almost immediately felt herself nodding off. Suddenly, she wasn’t on Remnant anymore, she was on a broken and devastated world made of metal. She was running alongside her team, shooting at shapes they couldn’t see, and then they found who they were there to rescue, the Vacuans from Site 13... only they were dead, lying haphazardly in a ditch, looking up at her with empty, pleading eyes.  
  
Before she could react, the ground itself became hot, so hot it glowed. They were running, trying to get away, but there was nowhere to run to. Her boots melted off, and then she could feel her feet burning away. She dropped to the superheated floor, but it only made things worse. Ruby tried to get her up.  
  
“Yang? Yang!”  
  
The blonde’s eyes shot open with a start, and red bloodshot orbs began looking around the room in a panic. It was filled with students now. Some of them were looking at her, and none moreso than the other members of her team. Ruby looked worried most of all, Weiss appeared concerned, and even Blake was looking at her with sympathy, as if she somehow understood.  
  
“Yang, are you alright?” asked Weiss. “You look like you’ve seen death itself.”  
  
_Yeah, and your family was responsible for it,_ she thought. She blinked and shook her head. “No, I just was out all night with some friends from back at Signal. Ran into them after visiting Maple’s. We lost track of time, and well, here I am,” she said.  
  
Weiss raised an eyebrow. “Your friends kept you occupied until after noon the next day? Is that normal?”  
  
“No,” replied Ruby. “No, it is not. I might not have had many friends in my time on this world, but I know that’s not normal.”  
  
"Uh huh," Weiss said. She looked over at the last member of the team. "Blake?"  
  
"Don't look at me," she said. "I kinda grew up with a… rough crowd. This? This'd be almost normal for them, but... like I said, rough crowd, one I left and never looked back to."  
  
“Well, I’ve never really had any friends, so you’re both ahead of me there, but going by Blake’s expert opinion, I guess it’s true then. They’re a bunch of delinquents, and they’re clearly a bad influence on you, as we can all see,” Weiss commented.  
  
Blake raised an eyebrow before adding, “Weiss’s ever depressing childhood aside…”  
  
[“Hey!”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yduGuE6k1vE)  
  
“...it really isn’t like you to do this,” the ink-haired girl finished. “You’ve always been the most responsible of us, but over the last two weeks, you’ve been really riding close to the edge. Is something going on?”  
  
Before Yang could formulate a response, Professor Peach interrupted. It was time for class to begin. After that, it was time for class. Then classes came around. Amazingly, they didn’t find any time to talk during or between those classes.  
  
All too soon, the quartet worked their way back to their dorm. Yang tried to prepare herself for what she was going to say, what she wanted to say, and what she had to say, but her thoughts were interrupted when the world turned upside down.  
  
Suddenly finding herself hanging by her ankle, Yang blinked in befuddlement at the rest of her team now being reversed in vertical orientation. "Ah, Miss Xiao Long." That was Professor Ann Greene's voice, and the rest of Team RWBY parted to let her approach.  
  
"Um, hello, Professor," Yang greeted, giving a small wave as she struggled to ignore the blood rushing to her head.  
  
"Now, Miss Xiao Long," Professor Greene said, leaning down to look Yang in the eyes, "had you shown up to class this morning, perhaps you would have been able to avoid this simple snare."  
  
“I have been out of it today,” the student observed dryly.  
  
Professor Greene raised a single eyebrow at that. “Indeed. And what, praytell, were you doing that has you so ‘out of it,’ as you say?”  
  
“Out with friends and lost track of time,” answered Yang. The lie came as easily as breathing to her, possibly because she had already done it, and possibly because it wasn’t technically a lie this time. It’s just that her friends were all from… out of town.  
  
“Hmm, so that’s what you’re going with?” Professor Greene asked rhetorically. “Very well, we have ways of making you talk.”  
  
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” came the voice of Professor Goodwitch as she walked into Yang’s increasingly red field of view.  
  
“Are you sure?” asked Greene curiously. “Because I’ve got some fresh bamboo ready to go. We just need a secluded room.”  
  
“No,” Goodwitch answered firmly. “No more interrogations. I think that Ms. Xiao Long will tell us what’s going on in her own time.”  
  
“Ah, the old ‘sweat them out’ gambit,” Greene realized. “Classic. Very well. Yang, three hours of detention, this Sunday, hmm, say one o'clock, since I'm feeling generous. That way you can even sleep in. And I want a five thousand word essay on proper infiltration and trap avoidance by then.”  
  
Goodwitch turned to look at Yang herself. “Two hours remedial combat training on Saturday morning, eight sharp. You’ll be facing off against me. Be there, or… Professor Greene, can you cut her down already? I'd rather she didn't pass out before we're finished here.”  
  
Professor Greene rolled her eyes and went somewhere unseen to untie the snare. Yang knew she had done it when she hit the ground with a thud. It was there, staring up at the ceiling with her vision slowly returning to normal, that she received the rest of her just desserts.  
  
It was Goodwitch that appeared first, her face concerned. “Honestly, Miss Xiao Long, you have one of the quickest minds and stoutest hearts of your year. Don’t squander all that potential on shortsighted gallivanting. You, and the world, deserve better. I’ll see you tomorrow morning; get some rest in the meantime.”  
  
Greene leaned into view even as Goodwitch began walking away. “Should go without saying, Miss Xiao Long, but terrible things will befall you and your dorm doorway if you miss tomorrow’s class.”  
  
“Got it, ma’am,” Yang said as she attempted to give a thumbs up, but laying on her back like this, she honestly wasn't sure which way to angle her hand.  
  
“Good, don’t forget now.”  
  
Professor Greene left then too, and no sooner had she done so then had the rest of Yang’s team rushed in to check on her.  
  
“Yang, are you hurt?” asked Ruby.  
  
“Just my pride,” Yang replied, a small smile coming to her lips as she remembered that she was echoing Torchwick.  
  
“Are you going to get up?" Blake asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"I dunno," Yang replied. "'Skinda comfy here, actually. Might just lie here for a bit."  
  
"Oh, for-" Weiss cut herself off before reaching down, grabbing Yang's hand, and attempting to pull her up. Without Yang offering any assistance, she wasn't particularly successful, even when Ruby came and tried to help, the two leaning back, each tugging on one of Yang's hands. They just lacked the mass and leverage.  
  
"This calls for drastic measures," Weiss declared, drawing Myrtenaster. She tapped the tip of the rapier to the floor, and ice spread along it.  
  
Yang's eyes widened as the cold seeped into her back, and she bolted off the ground. "Weiss!" she shrieked.  
  
"If you're going to lie down, at least wait until you get in bed," the heiress said primly. "Lying about on the floor in a public… it's unseemly."  
  
"Right, right," Yang muttered, stifling a yawn, and Team Ruby continued their trek to their dormitory… only to be interrupted in the hallway just outside said dormitory.  
  
“Hey, Ruby, ready to do the thing?” asked Jaune as he and the rest of Team JNPR came up behind them.  
  
Ruby’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh, yeah, right! The thing! I almost forgot about it."  
  
Nora blinked in surprise. “You forgot about the thing? How could you forget about the thing. It’s the thing.”  
  
“'Almost,'” Ruby insisted defiantly before turning back to Yang. “Hey, sis? JNPR invited us to go to this thing. It’s pretty big, but they only had three spare seats, and well…”  
  
Yang held up a hand. “Can I sleep now?”  
  
Her sister was momentarily stunned, but replied easily, “Oh yeah! Go ahead. You look terrible right now, Yang. Get some beauty sleep.”  
  
“Cool,” Yang replied before slumping into the dorm.  
  
The rest of her team followed, but only long enough to get changed into their battle dress. They left Yang keeled over on her bed, the snare still wrapped around her ankle. Again though, she twitched as the horrors of the past reasserted themselves.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
"Thank you again for taking the time to fly us out here," Pyrrha said.  
  
Team RWB and Team JNPR were aboard the _Ocean Swan_ , an independently owned and operated transport airship. Pyrrha's contact had turned out to be a Vale air traffic controller ("She's just a bit of a fan," Pyrrha had said, her face as red as her hair) who had noticed some unusual sensor ghosts in this area. Low altitude, so nothing could be confirmed, but enough to stick in her memory.  
  
"Not a problem," the pilot -- a big man named Bear, another one of Pyrrha's contacts -- replied jovially. "I can always use an excuse for more stick time anyway. Thank _you_ for the autograph. I can't wait to see little Molly's face when I give it to her at her birthday party next week."  
  
"Oh, when next week?" Pyrrha asked. "Maybe I should drop by."  
  
Bear chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, man, you really like piling up those favors, don't you, Miss Nikos?"  
  
"What?" Pyrrha sputtered, her face heating up. "I don't- I mean-" she stammered, flustered.  
  
"It would make her day, Miss Nikos, but I couldn't ask that of ya," he said.  
  
"Oh, no," she insisted, "it would be no trouble at all!"  
  
Jaune looked studiously turned his attention away from the front of the airship, not wanting to see Pyrrha dig herself in any deeper. "What're you looking up, Ren?" he asked.  
  
"Local news," the other male on the team answered, holding up his scroll. "There have been reports of strange lights and sounds in the sky in the area. Someone even took a video of it."  
  
Jaune leaned over. It showed a family out camping; from the audio, the father was the one holding the camera. Then, suddenly, a bright light flashed from behind the hills in the distance; actually, "bright light" did it an injustice, considering it practically turned night into day. The terrain was briefly highlighted as dark silhouettes, as if cast upon by the world’s biggest spotlight. The family was taken aback and were still staring toward the hills when a sound like a thousand lightning bolts all at once thundered, still loud even through the scroll's tiny speakers.  
  
"That… what _was_ that?"  
  
"I suspect we are about to find out shortly," Ren pointed out.  
  
Across the cargo bay, a certain heiress's patience was wearing thin.  
  
"What is it, Nora?" Weiss asked irritably, drawing attention from her teammates. "You've been staring at me since we took off." The redhead _had_ been unusually quiet the whole trip, and doing just what Weiss was accusing her of.  
  
"Are you sure you can do this, Weiss?" Nora asked in a strange, un-Nora-like, tone. "I mean… the fight we're picking here, it's not just a dangerous enemy, it's… they're _your_ people, Weiss. Are you- are you sure about this?"  
  
Weiss could feel her eyes narrowing slightly. “If they’re enslaving people, they’re _not_ my people. They're _evil_.”  
  
“So you’re going to kill them then?” asked Nora pointedly. "People who might not know everything that's going on, people just doing their jobs?"  
  
Weiss froze, realizing the implications of what she had just said. Before she could elaborate her statement further, Blake spoke.  
  
“Don’t think like that, Weiss. Don’t go down that road,” she said with evident experience and firm conviction. “I’ve seen people I care about walk that path before, and… and it changed them, twisted them. They weren't who I remembered anymore."  
  
Nora shifted her attention then. “So, if one of these SDC guards had their gun to the head of a slave, you won’t be willing to pull the trigger to stop them from pulling _their_ trigger?”  
  
Blake bristled. “I won’t hesitate when the time comes. Believe me, I've-" she broke off. "No, I won't hesitate. Trust me on that.”  
  
Nora looked over at Ruby. "And what about you, Ruby?"  
  
Ruby's knuckles whitened on her grip on Crescent Rose. "You're not asking anything I haven't been asking myself since we got on this airship, Nora," she answered quietly.  
  
“And?” asked Nora.  
  
“And… I'll do what I have to, but not one bit more. I signed up to be a Huntress, to save lives, and that's that. I've made my peace with that, I think."  
  
Nora gave a small nod. “Well said.”  
  
Ruby had her own follow-up though. “Fair’s fair. What’s up with you, Nora?”  
  
“I’m just trying to see if you guys know what you’re getting into,” the redhead said with a shrug. “Me and Ren? We’ve seen and done some pretty wild things in our time, and we’ve already talked it over with Pyrrha and Jaune, but you three are an unknown. We’re going to be hot-dropping into an SDC facility, possibly getting into house-to-house fighting, with civilians running around. That’s a pretty nasty situation, no matter how you smash it.”  
  
“We’re coming up on the valley now!” Bear announced. “Get ready!”  
  
The two teams of Huntsmen (in training) did just that, doing one final check of their weapons and gear. Of this, they included an extra step that they did not normally engage in. At Weiss’s advice they had decided to gather video evidence of the SDC’s wrongdoing, so that none could say they were innocent. To this end, they had procured a set of headbands that held their scrolls in video capture mode upon their brows.  
  
“We look ridiculous,” commented Ren dryly.  
  
“But effective,” pointed out Pyrrha.  
  
Suddenly, as if thrown by a switch, all banter stopped. The _Ocean Swan_ crested over the ridge, and they found a sight that none of them had ever expected to see. It was a possibility for sure, but this?  
  
“Someone already hit it,” Jaune whispered as he looked out and saw wisps of smoke drifting up from the facility and the signs of battle that littered the valley.  
  
“Whoever they were, they were throwing around a lot of firepower,” Ruby realized as her eyes traced over the glassed patches of ground, gigantic tracks, and the wrecks of the turrets on the battlements. A central spire topped with what looked like a gigantic cannon had toppled over, breaching the outer wall.  
  
“And somehow, I doubt it was those guys,” mused Nora as she pointed at the group of Beowolves and other Grimm closing in on the facility to join with the collection already there.  
  
“Bear,” Ruby called, “can you please bring us in to the facility now? There could be people injured in there, and I don’t want to delay.”  
  
“You got it, Miss Rose,” Bear replied. “I’ll orbit the place and provide air support where I can. Don’t forget to call with those things on your head.”  
  
Ruby tapped her ear with a confident smile, moving her thin fingers over the comms set mounted in it. “That’s what these are for. Don’t worry, we’ll call if we need help, but right now, I think we need more CAP than CAS.”  
  
Bear smiled in turn. “Sounds good to me, like a proper operation, in fact.”  
  
The small airship flew over the facility, and they could see now over the walls to find that there were more than a few Grimm inside the walls already. A great black and white host had risen up to claim this facility, scratching at the walls of the buildings and trying to find their way in. With the groups outside, Ruby estimated at least five hundred of the fell beasts stood against them.  
  


“That’s a lot of Grimm,” Jaune observed.  
  
Ruby’s reply was soft, resolute, and challenging. “You’re right. Are we gonna let that stand in our way?”  
  
Jaune cocked what he hoped would be a confident grin. “No. Not tonight.”  
  
Ruby nodded and jumped into the fray with Crescent Rose deploying on the way down.  
  
Beneath her stood a Nightmare, tall and sickly. It neighed in defiance and reached to bite her. Deftly, Ruby twirled her scythe at such an angle that it caught the demonic equine on the neck. Just as the blade dug in, she fired a gravity round from Crescent Rose, driving her feet onto the ground to land beside the Grimm’s severed head.  
  
Jaune followed shortly after, crashing shield-first into a Boarbatusk; a quick stab with Crocea Mors below his shield impaled it, and he sprang back before charging forward at another Boarbatusk, Crocea Mors arcing lethally in a well-practiced pattern of thrusts and slashes.  
  
From the airship above, Pyrrha smiled proudly and followed after Jaune, Miló in rifle mode firing as she went down, picking off some of the weaker Grimm. Shifting Miló into spear form as she landed, she impaled an Ursa before vaulting over it. Slinging Akoúo̱ out into the crowd of Grimm, she spun and brought Miló around to face the wounded Ursa as it turned to track her. As Akoúo̱ bounced between Grimm around and behind the Ursa, she charged and leapt at the last second, catching Akoúo̱ and jamming it into the Ursa's roaring mouth before bringing Miló down point-first into its head.  
  
Blake leaped down, landing in the middle of a pack of Beowolves. As one, the lupine Grimm pounced on her… only for her to fade beneath their claws as the real Blake landed atop them, Gambol Shroud’s scabbard glinting keenly in the fading light as it came down to hack the head of one in twain with a meaty thwack. Even as that was happening, the variable ballistic chain scythe had shifted into a pistol that was rending the skulls of the other Grimm of the group apart with powerful explosive dust rounds. The pack faded, and Gambol Shroud shifted into its sword form to meet the next Grimm to face her and die like their fellows.  
  
Ren ran across the walls of the building, StormFlower blazing into the crowd of Grimm below, and as gravity slowly arced his path down, he pushed off the wall, somersaulting over a Beringel, sending rounds stitching into its back.  
  
Weiss lowered herself elegantly on one of her glyphs, the ethereal platform freezing the Grimm beneath her as it passed through them. Giving Myrtenaster a flourish and switching chambers, she darted forward past the frozen Grimm and dove into the fray, her blade now trailing fire.  
  
BOOM!  
  
That was Nora. Of course.  
  
As one, the fellowship of seven found themselves together against the raging horde. Seven young warriors of the light and life stood against the still mighty host of darkness death and did not falter or bend. The slavering monsters felt no fear or compassion, and so charged with reckless hate against the small candles that dared to insult them with their presence.  
  
The battle was long and hard, but at the end, the seven shining stars had burned the shadows away.  
  
“Woo! Can you believe we finished that before sunset? That was exhausting!” Nora commented as she scraped some of the evaporating remains of a Boarbatusk off her heel.  
  
“We should check to see if anyone is inside,” said Ruby seriously as she ran towards the nearest door. "They might need our help."  
  
“The SDC, or their slaves?” asked Jaune as he and the rest of the group followed.  
  
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” was Ruby’s simple reply.  
  
The door was enormous, a good forty feet high and twice as wide, decorated simply with a purple, almost facelike icon. They approached, but it did not respond, and if there was any sort of access panel, it wasn't visible.  
  
"Perhaps a lockdown or a power outage?" Ren suggested.  
  
"There's got to be some other access point somewhere," Jaune said.  
  
"Right," Ruby agreed. "Let's keep looking."  
  
It didn't take long to find another door -- much smaller, but still sizable -- around the corner, half-open.  
  
“Lights on,” ordered Ruby. "Weapons out. There could still be Grimm inside." Unspoken, of course, was the possibility of enemies of a more… human persuasion. As one, they all complied, flicking on the flashlight modes of their scrolls to light the hallway they found themselves in with seven bright beams.  
  
They came across another, similar door, and passed on through to find… a large empty room. There were few Schnee Dust Company shipping crates stacked by the side, but they were empty as well. The only indications that there had been anything at all were the marks on the floor where large objects had been placed and the scattered metallic-smelling stains on the floor.  
  
“Looks like whoever was here before us stripped this place bare,” observed Blake as the group spread out.  
  
“I don’t think we’re going to find anyone alive here,” Jaune realized.  
  
“Don’t focus on that,” said Ren, his voice hard.  
  
"Okay,” Jaune said, and then after a few seconds he noted something. “You know, this kind of reminds me of when they get to the village in _Huntsmen Hunted_."  
  
Weiss shivered. "Don't remind me."  
  
Pyrrha raised a finger. "Um, what's _Huntsmen Hunted_?"  
  
"An old horror movie that gets _way_ more credit than it deserves," replied Nora.  
  
"Oh, come on, it's a classic!" Jaune protested.  
  
Silently and unseen, Pyrrha made a note to look up the title when they got back to civilization.  
  
"Pfft!" Nora waved him off. “It relies far too much on fake jump scares.”  
  
“It was a pioneer in the field!" Jaune argued. "The fake jump scares are key set up for when the Grimm first appear. Remember that scene? It wasn’t until halfway through the movie, and with that set up, it _sold_ it.”  
  
“Okayyy," Nora relented, "it had _some_ good points, I’ll admit, but-"  
  
“Can we _please_ stop talking about it?” Weiss interrupted through clenched teeth.  
  
“Yeah, come on, guys," Ruby said. "Focus!"  
  
“Okay. Can we comment on the blood stains on the floor instead?” asked Nora. “Because these seem like they’ve been here for a while.”  
  
“Probably from limbs caught in the machinery,” Blake theorized.  
  
Weiss looked like she was about to throw up. “And they didn’t even bother to clean up the blood? That’s…”  
  
“Atypical?” finished Blake clinically. “Yes, it is.”  
  
“I was going to say ‘disturbing’,” corrected Weiss. “I also would have settled for 'disgusting,' 'dishonorable,' 'unconscionable,' or 'beyond the pale.'”  
  
“Don’t take it so personally, Weiss,” Ren interjected. “You’re not responsible for this.”  
  
“Why not?” she asked sharply. “I’ve actually seen someone try to bring up accident reports to my father. He stopped them mid-sentence and told them to skip to the part about how it affects profitability or PR. He doesn’t care, and he won’t accept responsibility. But _someone_ has to, so why not me?”  
  
Nora looked in worry at the heiress, then at Ren, then back to Weiss. “Uh, because you didn’t do anything and can’t do anything?”  
  
Weiss _glared_ at her with such force that the redhead felt taken aback, but then just as quickly, the emotion was gone and her focus was elsewhere. “Let’s just find out what happened here and where everyone is.”  
  
“Yeah, about that?” Ruby called out from the side of the gigantic room. “Does anyone know what the door here says?”  
  
The rest of the group turned as one to look at what their compatriot had discovered, and almost as uniformly balked. It was another door, smaller than the others, but with a very noticeable feature. It had a handle built into it which was as tall as Jaune, and placed far enough off the ground that two of them would have to stand on top of each other to have a hope of reaching it.  
  
“So, Ruby,” Weiss began, her voice vexxed, “quick question about priorities. Since when does wall gibberish rate higher on your list of information that needs to be known than the fact that this door is made for giants?”  
  
“I dunno,” the team leader replied with a shrug, her eyes still on the angular and jagged script painted on the door. “It’s just odd. Back when she decided to travel the world, Yang started studying a bunch of languages. I peered over her shoulder a lot, and I picked up a few things. One of those things was what those languages look like written out, and none of them look like that. I don't even recognize the alphabet at all.”  
  
“So, we’ve come across a door made for giants, with a sign on it written in an alien language, night is coming fast, and we’re in an abandoned slave labor camp that was just attacked by Grimm. I think we know where this is going, Snow Angel,” Jaune said with a cheesy smile.  
  
“Oh, shut up,” moaned Weiss. “And if you say something stupid like, ‘I’ll protect you,’ I _will_ stab you.”  
  
"Thought never even crossed my mind, Snow Angel."  
  
“Whatever the case, we need to explore this location, and the best way through is through that door. If the metal it’s made out of is magnetic, I should be able to get us through,” Pyrrha reasoned.  
  
“Go ahead,” Ruby replied.  
  
And with that, Pyrrha stretched forth her right hand towards the door. Almost suddenly, the latch was sprung open, and the door dragged silently open along with it. A shadow flickered on the far side of the door.  
  
"Movement!" Jaune warned. "We've got movement!"  
  
Crescent Rose snapped level and barked, and the Creep exploded.  
  
"Well, that was anticlimactic," Nora grumbled. "What did I say about fake jump scares?"  
  
“And I told you that it’s just set up for the real scare later,” Jaune shot back.  
  
“Please don’t tempt fate like that, you two,” Ren told them.  
  
"This place is huge," Ruby mused. "It'll take us all night to go over everything if we stick together. We should split up."  
  
"NO!" chorused four voices.  
  
She blinked at Jaune, Weiss, Nora, and Ren. "Why not?"  
  
"Did you not just hear us compare this whole setup to a horror movie?" Jaune asked.  
  
"We've tempted fate enough tonight," added Ren.  
  
Ruby shrugged. “Okay. Then let’s double time, Team Name-Pending!”  
  
Weiss blinked. “Really, Ruby? _That’s_ what you’re going with?”  
  
“It’s pending!” Ruby defended as the seven made their way into the passage.  
  
Running, it took them but a few seconds to reach an intersection. In the lead, Ruby considered her options, and with a mental shrug, veered left. One way was as good another, at this point. After a while, the hallway ended in another door.  
  
"Pyrrha?"  
  
"Right."  
  
As Pyrrha used her semblance to unlatch the door, the rest of the team prepared themselves for whatever might be waiting on the other side. Which turned out to be another dark, cavernously huge room. Luckily, their lights were still working, and they were able to see much of what was inside it.  
  
Seeing what was inside, though, they didn’t know what to make of it.  
  
“So, uh, speaking of horror movies, has anyone seen _Deer, I Miniaturized Our Offspring_?” asked Ruby nervously.  
  
“Wasn’t that a comedy?” asked Pyrrha.  
  
“No, it was definitely a horror film,” Ruby insisted defiantly.  
  
They had found themselves inside a what could only be described as a break room, complete with table and chairs. The difference here was that there was simply no way any human could use the furniture in the room, for even the smallest of the strong steel chairs was so large that Ruby would have to leap ten feet into the air just to land on its edge.  
  
Most uniquely, there were a series of cubicles on the wall, though what their purpose was unclear. Indeed, the purpose of all of the devices eluded them. The only thing they knew for certain was that they were exceedingly large compared to the Beacon students, a fact made all the clearer as they walked through the room.  
  
“Okay, I admit it,” said Nora, “this is weird even by my standards.”  
  
“Why would the SDC build something like this?” asked Pyrrha curiously.  
  
Jaune’s light moved across another sign written in the alien script. “Are we sure they made it? I mean, except for those crates on what we can assume to be the factory floor, we haven’t seen any evidence that this place was made by human hands at all.”  
  
“Come on,” Blake said incredulously. “What are you suggesting? That it was actually faunus that made this place?”  
  
“No, I’m saying that we seriously need to look at the possibility of alien intervention here,” Jaune replied seriously.  
  
Weiss paused. “Aliens? Jaune, I looked at the data myself. The SDC had to have been involved in building this. The idea of including extraterrestrial life in this is just… It’s so crazy I don’t even know how to respond to that.”  
  
“Involved, but not entirely responsible,” Jaune said with one finger pointed from the hand holding his sword. “That same data said that the SDC had some mysterious partners, right? We don’t know who they are, but it makes sense that they would be directly involved in the production of energon if they came up with the idea, right?”  
  
“...right,” admitted Weiss. “That doesn’t mean they’re aliens though, even if the writing in this place is strange, and the furniture looks like it was made for someone five times the average human height.”  
  
“Which, you got to admit, _is_ pretty weird,” Nora repeated.  
  
As the argument continued in the background, Ruby found herself staring up at the symbol on the wall. It was the same as what was on the door they had seen when they first arrived, that stern angled face, and seemed to rest in the same position an especially patriotic person would put their kingdom’s banner inside their home. She felt something stir within her, and as she burned every line and corner of its shape into her mind, the whole world seemed to go dead around her.  
  
She didn’t know how, she didn’t know why, but she knew that this symbol was important. She knew somehow that if she saw this symbol again, it would mean she was on the right track to finding the people who did this.  
  
Then, just as suddenly, the feeling was gone, and she was back in the present.  
  
“Guys, let’s move on,” Ruby ordered sternly. “We’re wasting time here.”  
  
They did one final sweep of the building, then headed back to the intersection of the tunnels, from where they headed off in another direction. When they reached the end of that path, they found themselves in what was once likely a warehouse, but now was empty. Except for more of the strange writing and symbols, they found nothing of note there.  
  
Another turn back to the intersection, and they found themselves on another path. This one was much longer, and soon, they found themselves passing a door that was open. With little debate, they decided to slide into the room to see what they could find.  
  
What they found was a lone Ursa prowling around. Against the seven warriors of light, the beast of foul darkness stood no chance. When it had been dispatched, they were free to explore the room.  
  
They soon wished they weren’t.  
  
“God, help us,” Ruby half prayed, half exclaimed as the full weight and fury of the room’s sights and smells hit her.  
  
The room was full of cells, cages really, and behind those bars the putrid stench of old urine and fecal matter wafted for all to consume. Blood and death mixed themselves in to become a truly horrifying stench. A gigantic door that led to the outside was at one end of the room, torn part way open by the terrifying muscles of some horrendous Grimm which likely was killed in their initial assault on the facility, but the gap was too small to allow for proper ventilation.  
  
“This…” Pyrrha began, but words failed her and she merely shook her head in shock.  
  
Nora looked back at her teammate, then at Ren and frowned. “This... is about what we expected to find.”  
  
“Monsters…” whispered Weiss, and then she repeated it with much greater volume and vigor. “ _Monsters!_ ”  
  
“Weiss, calm down,” Ren said softly as he put his hand on the heiress still trembling with rage and despair.  
  
Amazingly, as she felt Ren’s touch, she also felt a feeling of total calm spread throughout her body. The emotions that had torn so recklessly at her soul now had passed. Only peace remained.  
  
Weiss turned her head and smiled thinly at Ren. “Thanks. You’ve got some semblance there. I can see why Nora likes you so much.”  
  
Ren smiled, but it was Nora that replied, “Yeah, likes, but not like-like. Like, you know?”  
  
Jaune ignored the banter as he looked around the room. Like the other rooms, the prison was built on a massive scale to accommodate things so big they defied comprehension, with two levels of cells -- no, _cages_ \-- to contain creatures of normal size. The cages had all been opened, and no living thing dwelt in them any more. Scattered about the center of the room were pieces of Atlesian Knights, specifically the -130 model, all having been sliced or blasted apart before being broken down for spare parts.  
  
“I think we found out where at least some of the AKs went,” observed Blake with grim stoicism as she crouched down to examine the cut in one android’s armor. As she ran her finger across it, the memory of a red blade came unbidden to her mind. She considered the thought, then filed it away as unlikely. Another detail, though, caught her attention. "Their dust cores are missing."  
  
Beside and above her, Jaune nodded. “Yeah, and it looks like we found out where the prisoners Yang rescued came from too.”  
  
He looked around before continuing. “Do you think they got out okay?”  
  
Blake glanced at the cage beside her and saw the dark red color of the tattered blankets on what passed for a bed, and she shook her head. “No, but they might have survived. At least, some of them might have survived.”  
  
The group of seven spread throughout the room and found much that they then documented. More than once, they found find themselves thankful that their scrolls were recording everything, because they could not bear to describe what they were seeing. Some, of course, took it harder than others.  
  
Weiss was staring at the inside of one of her cages, at the moldy floor and stained blankets, a haunted look in her eyes. It was Pyrrha that first took action on this. She walked up beside the heiress, and in a clear calm voice tried her best to offer gentle words of kindness.  
  
“This doesn’t end here,” she began, and the white-haired girl turned to face her. “I know that things seem hopeless right now, but it'll pass. We'll find the ones who've sown this misery, and they shall reap the whirlwind.”  
  
Weiss exhaled heavily and nodded. “You’re right, this- this isn’t over.”  
  
“All right, everyone,” called out Ruby. “Let’s get a move on. We still got a lot of facility to cover and not a lot of time to do it in.”  
  
The group exited back into the tunnels, and turned down to continue the path. When they exited they found the site of a fierce battle. There were a few Atlesian Knight remains that had been stripped of any dust they had, yes, but the main evidence of battle came from the multiplicity of holes in the hall, along with the door that had been sliced in two at the other end.  
  
“Looks like someone had quite the party,” observed Jaune casually.  
  
“Really?” asked Weiss. “We just came from a place so putrid the only thing that kept me from vomiting is not wanting to add to the… examples already on the floor, and now you’re cracking jokes?”  
  
“Maybe you should be doing the same, Ice Queen. It’s a classic coping maneuver for a reason,” pointed out Nora.  
  
Weiss huffed, while the others went about their business. Pyrrha and Jaune examined an open room, finding naught but giant empty weapon racks and the small torn remains of a poster’s corners. Like everything else in the facility, the items in that room were all ridiculously oversized, even the tape that had once held up the poster.  
  
Ruby, following her instincts, had begun reading the holes in the floors and walls.  
  
"I've never seen weapons damage like this before," she noted from her analysis. "It doesn't match any type of dust I've ever seen or read about. High rate of fire, decent accuracy, but only at short-range. Either whatever it fired leans toward that, or it's got pretty loose tolerances, designed for mass production and use with minimal training. Probably for second-line garrison troops, which makes me wonder what the _really_ good stuff is like."  
  
The rest of the group turned and looked at Ruby like she had grown a second head that had in turn started belting out Vacuan opera in Spruce Willis’s voice.  
  
“You got all that… from a bunch of bullet holes?” asked Jaune disbelievingly.  
  
“Yeah, except I’m pretty sure they’re not actually _bullet_ holes. It’s just simple battlefield forensics, after all,” Ruby said with a shrug. “Relatively easy to guess stuff like that. The really tricky part was figuring out that whoever was shooting was pretty tall -- like, 'sits on those chairs we saw' tall -- and aiming at human-sized targets moving down the hall.”  
  
The group shrugged and continued on down the line, eventually coming to another open room and the outside where the last glimmers of sunlight were beginning to disappear. The room was yet another affair that took their breath away, for it appeared to be a security station, complete with a computer. However, the computer was powered off, and even if it wasn’t it was doubtful they could have used it, for each of the buttons on its keyboard was at least half their size in addition to being on top of a giant desk.  
  
“It’s really crazy just how comically large everything is here,” Nora once more observed. “I mean, isn’t this just nuts, Ren?”  
  
“Completely insane,” concurred the long-haired boy.  
  
Blake once more found herself running her hands over the bisected door, finding something familiar about it, like a distant echo of something best left forgotten. She was interrupted in thought and deed by Weiss approaching from behind. The heiress looked disquieted, though that summarized her entire mood that night.  
  
“What’s up?” asked the black-haired girl, the bow upon her head twitching in the wind.  
  
“It’s…” the heiress paused, considering her words carefully, even as her own hair gently fluttered in the breeze. “Am I a bad person?”  
  
Blake blinked, a little taken aback, and looked around. “That… I am _not_ the person you should be asking that question," she answered emphatically.  
  
Weiss's curious pondering at the bitterness in her teammate's reply was interrupted by Nora slapping her on the shoulder. “Buck up, Weiss. It’s not your fault your evil dad is collaborating with giant aliens.”  
  
Blake looked at her strangely. “Are we really going with that theory?”  
  
Nora shrugged. “Well, I was going to suggest a race of subterranean mole men, but _someone_ shot that idea down," she said, sending a meaningful glare at Ren.  
  
Ren gave a smile and a nod, which Nora grumbled at.  
  
“Cut it out, you two,” interrupted Jaune. “We’re going to take a look at that tower, and then we’re calling for pick up.”  
  
And with that, they did as the blond leader bid. As they made their way over to the massive toppled structure, they all formed their own theories on what would be found there. Many expected Ruby to give them a very detailed answer, given her previous performance in the hall.  
  
Things did not exactly work out as such.  
  
“Well, it’s a big gun,” the crimson-themed sniper said aloud after examining the massive cannon mounted to the top of the tower, now horizontal and outside the walls after the tower it was perched atop had fallen over.  
  
“That’s it?” Blake asked disbelievingly.  
  
Ruby rolled her eyes. “Okay, it’s a large-scale multi-function transforming weapon with a surprisingly large amount of both depression and elevation. If I would have to guess at its function, it would be to take out large airborne targets like Wyverns and Atlesian battlecruisers, with enough traverse to target Behemoths. However, I cannot say for certain what it actually does beyond saying that it appears to be primarily an energy weapon, with some secondary functions for channeling dust. It is… really beyond me, actually.”  
  
Blake smiled despite that though. “That’s better than the rest of us would have gotten. Let’s call for pickup now though. We don’t want to stick around too much now that it’s really night out.”  
  
At their word, the _Ocean Swan_ descended to pick them up, and they boarded it with little fuss. Once onboard, however, Bear had some disturbing information to tell them.  
  
“I recorded some of my own footage while out in the valley, and it’s really the sort of thing you should see,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically sober.  
  
The teams crowded around one of the MFDs in the cockpit’s navigator station behind the co-pilot’s seat to view the images. As they flipped through the images, different angles of the base and more curious features of the valley, one image flipped by that no one seemed to notice. Jaune wouldn't have made any particular note of it either if he hadn't noticed Ren and Nora's reactions to it, but the two had stayed silent.  
  
They asked Bear for copies of the footage, and he was glad to oblige them. That achieved, the two teams retired to the back to discuss what they'd seen.  
  
"Ren, Nora," Jaune said quietly, as Ruby took center stage, "what was up with that one image?"  
  
"Wh-what are you talking about?" Nora asked, offering an unconvincing laugh.  
  
"You know the one," he pressed. "The big mound of dirt."  
  
"I, uh-" Nora hedged.  
  
"It's a mass grave," Ren answered simply. "You see them a lot near fallen villages."  
  
It struck Jaune, then, how little he really knew about his team. When had Ren and Nora had the occasion to visit enough fallen villages to recognize a mass grave? Then again, despite how much Nora talked, neither she nor Ren were particularly forthcoming about their shared past, and Pyrrha valued her privacy to the point that she seemed to actively appreciate how little he knew about her. While it was fairly obvious she was hiding _something_ , it just didn’t seem right to intrude, and he supposed that respect for privacy had extended to the rest of Team JNPR.  
  
"Please don't tell Weiss," Nora said, shaking her head. "I don't know how she'd take it right now."  
  
Jaune nodded. "Agreed."  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70TAZPStzQ)

  
"And that's when you decided to flee?" Starscream prodded gleefully. It was a familiar location, a familiar scene, with a new addition to the cast under the spotlight.  
  
"Affirmative," Onslaught confirmed. "With Site Thirteen's anti-orbital cannon under Autobot control, the battle was lost. Even merged into Bruticus, we wouldn't be able to survive more than a few hits and remain battleworthy. I deemed it better to retreat in good order and minimize injury."  
  
"An anti-orbital cannon," Starscream repeated. "Why, pray tell, was an anti-orbital cannon -- which, correct me if I'm wrong, is meant for shooting down _starships in high orbit_ , hence the name -- articulated to fire at ground targets?"  
  
"I will have to defer that question to Lugnut," Onslaught replied, "as it was a pre-existing installation before we arrived."  
  
"Lugnut?" Starscream prompted.  
  
"Hail Megatron!" Lugnut belted out reflexively. "It was for Grimm," he answered. "You know, the really _big_ ones, like the one that attacked the _Nemesis_ last solar cycle. After what happened with the escape, I wanted to make sure none of them would ever get close enough to cause another security breach again."  
  
Starscream turned and looked at Soundwave. "Excuse after excuse! First, Grimm; then, a Prime; now, Mini-Con infiltrators! What next? Is _Unicron_ going to show up and sabotage things in Vale?"  
  
"Situation unacceptable," Soundwave acknowledged. "Starscream, since you believe yourself more capable, _you_ will take over the Vale Theater."  
  
Finally _, my genius will be recognized!_ Starscream thought, smiling triumphantly. "Of course, Soundwave," he said. "I will begin preparations for my departure immediately."  
  
As Starscream left, Soundwave turned his visored gaze to the Combaticon leader. "Onslaught, Lord Megatron wishes to speak with you… personally."  
  
"Of course, sir." Onslaught squared his shoulders and marched through the door behind Soundwave. There were consequences for failure, and he would not shy away from them.  
  
There were Decepticons who feared those consequences more than death itself. Indeed, it could be argued that Onslaught was one of them, as he had little fear of death.  
  


> _”Our lives are meant to be spent.”_

  
But he stood by his decision to call for a retreat. With the Autobots in control of Site 13’s fixed defenses, especially the anti-orbital cannon, all staying and fighting would have accomplished was getting him and his men killed, and that was… _unacceptable_. He could never -- _would_ never -- allow that to happen, not on his watch.  
  


> _”_ ’Spent’ _. Not wasted.”_

  
As the door slid shut behind him, he stood at attention, bracing himself.  
  
"Lord Megatron."  
  
"You disappoint me, Onslaught." From his throne in the darkened back of the room, Megatron's voice was deceptively calm and level. A bad sign.  
  
"I accept full responsibility for our failure."  
  
"I know you do, Onslaught," Megatron crooned softly as he rose from his throne and walked down to his subordinate.  
  
That was when the pain began.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D33Begj0084)

  
Professor Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Huntsman Academy, was silent for those first few seconds after the footage gathered by the seven students in front of him, in particular Ren, finished playing. Professor Glynda Goodwitch, his chief lieutenant and combat instructor, was silent as well. The tension between them and the students was so great those with bladed weapons felt they could slice it apart.  
  
As was his prerogative though, Ozpin broke the silence with his characteristic calm. “You seven have indeed been very active in your free time.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Jaune and Ruby answered for their teams in near unison.  
  
“What I’m wondering is, why did you choose to being this to me now?”  
  
“We wanted to wait until we had evidence linking the SDC to it,” Jaune answered, “but after what we saw… this is way bigger than any of us thought.”  
  
“I see,” Ozpin said, hands clasped in front of him with his shoulders on his desk. “I’m glad you brought this to my attention. Please, keep us apprised of your investigation.”  
  
“Headmaster!” a scandalized Glynda protested, her head whipping around to stare at Ozpin. “You can’t be serious!”  
  
Ruby blinked. “You… aren’t going to tell us to stop?”  
  
“Would you listen if I did?” Ozpin asked reasonably.  
  
“Um, well…” Ruby hemmed and hawed, toeing the floor awkwardly.  
  
"No," Jaune declared bluntly.  
  
"At the beginning of the semester, you asked me for any tips on how to be a leader," Ozpin said, looking at the caped youngster. "Here's one: Never give an order you know won't be obeyed. I knew your mother, Miss Rose, and you are very much like her. An injustice such as this? I might as well try asking a river to stop flowing to the sea. At least this way, we can provide you with support and help when you need it.”  
  
“With all due respect, sir,” Glynda said, drawing his attention. “They’re _children_.”  
  
"An hour ago, I would have agreed with you, Glynda," the headmaster replied. "But after seeing this? The fire I see in their eyes? The monumental task they've taken on? No, Glynda. They aren't children, not anymore. They're Huntsmen now."  
  
He looked over the seven teenagers, looking each one in the eye.  
  
"You aren't in combat school anymore," he declared. "There, you likely experienced a certain degree of… overprotectiveness from the faculty. But among the many lessons we teach here at Beacon is to shoulder the responsibilities of your choices. Consider this… an accelerated course.”  
  
The teenagers considered that for a long moment.  
  
Then Weiss raised her hand.  
  
“Does this mean we’ll be getting extra credit?”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70TAZPStzQ)

  
The medical bay was as dimly lit as the rest of the ship, and currently, the only medic out of stasis was performing a routine examination. Cybertronian physiology didn't typically need it very often, but these were decidedly atypical circumstances.  
  
He was just finishing up with his patient when the door slid open.  
  
“Thundercracker, Ambulon,” Starscream said, offering both patient and medic nods of greeting.  
  
Thundercracker snapped to his feet. “Commander Starscream!”  
  
"Commander." Ambulon's reply nod was much more sedate.  
  
“So, how's our patient?" Starscream asked. "Is he having any issues interfacing with the prototype? Headaches, disorientation, energon fluctuations?”  
  
"No, sir," Thundercracker replied. Starscream ignored him.  
  
"His optics and reflexes are responding normally, and there's no detectable interference with his T-cog or other functions," Ambulon said. "Clean bill of health."  
  
Starscream leaned back. “ _Excellent_. I was worried there might be issues integrating the humans’ primitive technology. Speaking of the humans, they insist the prototype is ready for live-fire trials. Would you concur?”  
  
Concern crossed the purple and white medic's face. "I must caution-"  
  
“Absolutely, Commander!” interrupted Thundercracker.  
  
"Excellent!" Starscream repeated. "We’ve already selected an appropriate venue: the humans’ Vytal Festival. I will be traveling ahead to make preparations as I take command of the Vale Theater, but you should be ready to depart at a moment's notice.”  
  
“Yes, Commander."  
  
Satisfied, Starscream spun on his heel and departed, leaving the two of them staring at the door after him.  
  
" _Someone's_ happy," Ambulon noted. He glanced at Thundercracker. "And you seem awfully eager."  
  
"Yeah, well…" Thundercracker stalled, before admitting, "I miss flying. And the prototype..."  
  
"He's _using_ you, you know," Ambulon pressed on. "As a test bed so he can take advantage of the technology himself if it succeeds."  
  
"Because I'm expendable, I know." The Seeker sighed. "But… I'm kind of glad he chose me for this, even with the risks."  
  
The other Decepticon raised a surprised eyebrow. "Getting attached, are you?"  
  
Rather than answer, Thundercracker asked, "So, am I good to go?"  
  
He got a long-suffering sigh in response. "Yes, yes, you're free to go. Like I told Starscream, clean bill of health."  
  
"Thanks, Doc," Thundercracker said, heading out.  
  
Shaking his head, Ambulon moved on down to the next medical cubicle. As the door slid open, he peered inside at his remaining patient.  
  
"Onslaught, old friend," he said, shaking his head, "looks like that Prime really did quite a number on you."  
  
"Not. The Prime," the Combaticon leader ground out.  
  
Realization dawned on the medic. "Ahh, of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please come join us on our Discord server, [Sapphire Sparks](https://discord.gg/acKKNXR).
> 
> **Author's Note 1 (Cyclone):**
> 
> I'm sure there's nothing to worry about with that ending, nothing at all. Anyway, we know Weiss hasn't ever shown the ability to do what we have her do here, but darn it, the mental image looked so cool, we had to go with it anyway. Sorry the battle sequence got summarized so much, but fight scenes are hard. Finally, damn it, Onslaught, stop trying to hijack the story!
> 
> **Author's Note 2 (Cody MacArthur Fett):**
> 
> During this chapter Weiss asks if they'll be getting extra credit for this, and the answer to that question is yes. It will be filed under "Special Assignments." That was going to be included in the chapter, but it was edited out for comedic timing purposes.
> 
> Also, this was another chapter that ended up being split. Though, interestingly, it wasn't ex post facto like the previous chapter. Instead what happened was that we were happily writing along with rapidity when we realized we were closing in on 25 pages.
> 
> Also, if you're rapidly reaching the point where you need a chart to keep track of who knows what and who is concealing what from whom you're not alone.


	8. V1E8: Making the Rounds

**Volume I: Episode 8: Making the Rounds**  
  
* * *

  
“Wow, Yang, you’re acting like you haven’t eaten in days,” Nora observed as she and the rest of the combined Teams of RWBY and JNPR sat at their preferred breakfast table.  
  
Yang didn’t even stop shoveling food into mouth to think about her reply. _48 - 5.5 = 42.5, so not quite, but close enough,_ she thought. When she paused long enough to talk, she said, “Guess I’m just hungry. I did sleep a lot last night.”  
  
Sleep she did, but not a lot of it was very good in her opinion. It was hard to have a good night’s rest when you were resting from a mission that was only a partial success. It was an axiom that was especially true after you saw the results of your failure first hand.  
  
Nevertheless, she managed to make it through breakfast. Heck, she did more than that; she made it through both Greene and Goodwitch’s classes without flinching. There were, after all, scarier things in the universe than a stern-faced middle-aged woman.  
  
She made it through the rest of the day too, but when classes ended, she was thrown through a loop by the vibrating of her burner scroll. It was while she was walking to the parking lot through the hall. The number was Bumblebee’s, so she ducked into the nearest empty room to take it.  
  
“What’s up, Bee?”  
  
 _”Yang, this is Optimus Prime. I had Bumblebee patch me through to your scroll._  
  
Instantly, Yang felt steel being injected into her spine, and she reflexively stood at attention.  
  
“Sir!”  
  
 _”At ease, Yang.”_  
  
Yang relaxed to a more normal stance, silently hoping no one saw her do that.  
  
“You got it, Optimus,” she said, imitating Bumblebee when she’d heard him talking to Prime. If this was improper, then they could take it up with her partner. “What do you need?”  
  
 _"Bumblebee assures me that your classes are over for the day."_  
  
"Yeah," she confirmed. "I was just about to head over to him so we can head out."  
  
 _”I understand. But right now, I need you to stay put and get some rest until we contact you.”_  
  
“But, Optimus, sir! I can still fight,” Yang protested.  
  
 _“If I had an energon cube for every Autobot who said that, we would have won this war long ago. Just because you can does not mean you should, Yang. You had a hard mission, and you’ve been on call almost constantly since we met. Rest, now. Is that clear?”_  
  
“Crystal, sir,” Yang lamented.  
  
 _“Good. Prime out.”_  
  
There was a click, the line went dead, and Yang found herself slumping against the wall. She was being benched; there was no other way to put it. The worst part was she could see where Prime was coming from; she was a wreck after… but that was the thing. After seeing what she had seen and doing what she had done, she didn’t care how horrible or painful it was, she had to get back out there to continue the fight.  
  
She had to fight and suffer so that Ruby wouldn’t have to.  
  
“I should go back to them,” she said aloud.  
  
Shakily, uneasily, she got up and started walking towards the door. She forced herself to put on a brave face. They couldn’t see her crack; _Ruby_ couldn’t see her crack. She had to be the guardian on the wall so they wouldn’t have to.  
  
By the time she got out of the room, she was practically skipping down the hall with a devil-may-care smile on her face.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“So, how are we going to get rid of her?” Blake asked conspiratorially.  
  
“Blake!” Ruby hissed. “Don’t say that about my sister. We spent days worrying about her, and now we want to ditch her?”  
  
Blake glanced over her shoulder across the courtyard where Weiss was stalling Yang in an expert fashion. At least, her keen ears deemed it to be so. The heiress seemed to be profoundly adept at speaking about an unending stream of absolutely nothing in such a way to keep the other people in the conversation pinned down and unable to move.  
  
“I am not immune to the irony,” Blake said as she turned her attention back to Ruby. “However, we are going to need to do just that if we mean to meet up with Juniper for the search.”  
  
“Uh, huh,” Ruby mumbled. “We’ll do things individually!”  
  
“Okay,” Blake answered simply, and then she walked away without a word.  
  
Ruby chuckled nervously and then began walking over to where Weiss was still prattling on about a subject so boring and banal that she couldn’t even comprehend it. Yang looked to be in a trance too, utterly zoned out from the world. She really hated to do this, but it was for the greater good.  
  
Before she could do anything, though, Weiss noticed her. “Ah, Ruby! Well, Yang, I really must be off. Blake and I made plans to indulge in the finer things, you understand, right? Ah, well, no matter, see you in a few hours. Toodles!”  
  
As Weiss walked away, Ruby was left on her own, just when Yang was snapping out of her daze. When the elder sister’s gaze was finally clear, her eyes locked onto the younger like the laser rangefinders of a Shadowhost ATAR-TLA-6 precision rifle optic, which had been at the top of her wishlist for the last year. It was a premium model, and if those lilac orbs were anything to go by, utterly terrifying to look at head on.  
  
“Hey, Rubes!” Yang said cheerfully. “I guess it’s just you and me now. Just like old times, eh? What do you want to do?”   
  
Ruby smiled to keep up appearances. She hated doing this, utterly despised it, but seeing Yang’s face just then… she would do anything to protect that smile. Yang had done so much for her, and it was high time she started giving back. It was a heavy burden, but just as her mother before her, Ruby knew that she had to be the defender of the gates so that people like Yang could live in bliss. It was so much better than letting Yang be exposed to any more of the horrors of the world than she already had.  
  
So, she thought quickly.  
  
“Actually, Yang, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this, but I can’t stick around either.”  
  
The blonde’s face grew concerned. “Oh? Why not?”   
  
_Shoot! I didn’t think that far ahead!_ the small girl shouted in her head as she was speaking. “Well, it’s... just... that… uh... I-have-a-date!”   
  
Yang’s expression went from concerned to clinically interested in the span of a nanosecond. “Oh, _really?_ And just who's the lucky guy who's stolen my little sister’s heart? Or girl, I guess. I won't judge. Much.”  
  
Ruby’s heart was going a mile a minute as she saw Yang crack her knuckles unconsciously, but no less threateningly. She had to do something, and she had to do it quick to get out of this situation. Her eyes darted around, frantically looking for inspiration. Then, like a knight in shining armor, Jaune Arc arrived in the distance with his team.  
  
He waved to greet her, and Ruby waved back. Yang tracked the gesture instantly and zeroed in on the still smiling and utterly oblivious Jaune. Taking the distraction for what it was worth, the crimson Huntress (in training) activated her semblance and sped as fast and as far as she could away from the situation.  
  
In but a moment’s time, she was safe, and as she turned, she found Team JNPR rushing towards her.  
  
“Hey, Ruby, wait up!” Jaune said as he reached her. “That was crazy fast of you. How did you manage to shake Yang anyways?”  
  
Ruby blushed furiously. “Oh, I, uh, I told her I had a date."  
  
Team JNPR looked at each other in confusion.  
  
"And, um, Jaune, if Yang comes looking for you? Run."  
  
Realization dawned on the blond's face. "You told her you were on a date with _me?_ "  
  
"I didn't exactly _say_ it was with you…"  
  
Ren’s eyebrows shot up. Nora’s mind was clearly racing to form one idea after another with giddy abandon. Pyrrha looked dreadfully concerned. Jaune wore the expression of a man who had not known sunlight in so long that his skin was becoming transparent.  
  
“I’m dead,” he said simply.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70TAZPStzQ)

  
Adam Taurus was a simple man. He wanted the humans to suffer for what they had done to him and his people. He wanted a revolution to topple the world order. He wanted his darling to be beside him when the world’s embers finally stopped burning. He was strong -- his strength the only thing to win Mother's praise before they parted ways -- and he wanted the world to recognize his strength.  
  
The last few months had thrown that simple life of his completely out the window, questioned the strength he'd prided himself on. It galled him enough to be under the thumb of a _human_ , but having been forced to delegate to a degenerate like Torchwick had just added insult to injury. He _wanted_ to lash out, to wipe that smug grin off Torchwick's face, to grind Cinder's face into the ground.  
  
But he didn't. Instead, he swallowed his pride and did as he was told, like a good little steer, castrated and obedient.  
  
He had once sworn he would never allow himself to feel powerless again, and yet... here he was, as helpless as he had been back in the mines. Fear clawed at his heart. Fear of Cinder.  
  
He wasn't strong enough. So where did that leave him?  
  
He'd struggled to make peace with that, to remind himself that she was offering him almost everything he wanted: to make the rest of humanity suffer, to burn their civilization to the ground and erect a new, just system for all faunuskind, if he could just forget that a golden leash was still a leash and ignore the bit of pride within him that demanded respect. He'd almost succeeded, but the Autobot leader's question from the other night haunted him.  
  
He could see himself, standing triumphantly over the remains of the city of Vale -- of all the kingdoms of humanity! -- and then… then, his battle would be over.  
  
But _then_ what?  
  
He'd never considered what would happen after his fight was over. Cinder had promised him that victory, with no word as to what would come after, but once he started thinking about it, it was painfully easy to connect the dots. His goal accomplished, she would direct him to serve her ends exclusively. He would spend the rest of his life as her slave, doing her bidding for lack of his own direction and fear of losing what she'd given him.  
  
The thought sent chills down his spine.  
  
Worse, the battle at Site 13 had opened his eyes to a world filled with things even more powerful, more terrifying than Cinder or even the endless hordes of the Grimm. Atlesian mechs were easy enough prey for Moonslice, but even the weakest of these "Decepticons" had shrugged it off. But as powerful as they were, the Autobots had agreed to an alliance -- if temporary -- with the White Fang.  
  
And if the Autobots were to continue to wage their battle to destroy the Decepticons, then perhaps…?  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his chief lieutenant opening his office door.  
  
“What is it, Ash?” he asked.  
  
The massive man shifted uncomfortably, a strange sight to be sure, especially with the chainsaw slung from his back. “Uh, Sunfire’s here."  
  
“What?!” Adam bellowed, leaping up from his chair. “How did she find…” and then it clicked, and his throat let loose a growl. “ _Jazz_.”  
  
Ash shrugged at that. “I mean, he did say he was keeping his ‘audio sensors down low to the beat of the street,’ last we saw him.”  
  
“That he did,” admitted Adam angrily. “Let me guess. Sunfire let herself in?”  
  
Ash nodded.  
  
“Fine,” the horned faunus relented. “I’ll go see if I can’t see what she wants.”  
  
With Ash in tow, he managed to find her in the commons area… telling a story. Her audience seemed to consist mostly of children, both the orphans the White Fang had taken in and the children of some of the Vacuan rescuees whose families had come looking for them and been economically stranded in Vale.  
  
“Now, this was still early in the war, barely two and a half million years in. Cybertron still had natural resources to speak of, and this energon river was one of them. It was huge! This great sparkling thing stretching three kilometers -- about two miles -- across at one point. And the only way across in the whole region was the Emperion Bridge, an old relic from the planet’s golden age that had, somehow, remained standing thus far.”  
  
The blonde-haired Autobot in human skin was wearing that same white and red uniform she had always been wearing, and again, the jacket was open. It was like she was silently rebelling against the idea of wearing a uniform, while still insisting on showing team colors. It was a very Huntress-like attitude to take, and he suspected it was because she actually was a Huntress in disguise.  
  
Though what her motivations really were still eluded him. It was possible that she had simply grown attached to the Autobots and decided to fly her flag alongside them. There were plenty of Huntsmen who did that, usually for villages or kingdoms, but sometimes they joined bandit tribes or even the White Fang.  
  
At least the kids seemed to like her, for some reason. The most likely cause was that they were too young to know that humans were either oppressors or criminals, with everything else being a variation. Though maybe it was her animated style of storytelling.   
  
“So Ironhide leaps on top of the battlement,” Sunfire jumped on top of a nearby table and mimed shooting a gun, “and he starts screaming that if the Decepticons want a fight he’s going to give it to them. Blam! Bang! Boom! Three times, he fires with his scatter blaster, and three times, a Decepticon goes down. Then Beachcomber pulls him back down and tells him not to throw his life away.”  
  
At that point Sunfire’s smile became conspiratorial. “Now, I know what you’re thinking, that wiser heads should prevail, and they would wait for Silverbolt and his Aerialbots to come in and clear away the Decepticons on the surface, but as those who were in the audience and paying attention remember, among the defenders of that section of the bridge was Cliffjumper, and Cliffjumper was a ‘Bot of a different kind entirely. So, what does he do? He shouts as loudly as he can, ‘Come on, you Decepti-chumps! You mess with the bull, you get the horns!’ So he transformed into his alt-mode and began zipping around the walls.”  
  
Adam stiffened at that. That was… very insensitive, to put it mildly...  
  
...but not a bad line, actually. He'd have to remember that.  
  
“Now, the rest of the Autobots are staring at this, not knowing what to do. They’d just stopped the old man from getting himself killed, and there goes Cliffjumper, living up to his name." Her head turned to look up at him. "But it looks like the rest of the story will have to wait, kids. Boss man wants to talk."  
  
“Aww!” came the disappointed chorus of the children, and at least two of the adult White Fang who happened to be listening in.   
  
Sunfire gave her placations and promised to continue the story some other time, and then she jumped off the table and walked over to him as the crowd dispersed.  
  
“What’s up? Hope I’m not causing too much of a stir,” she said with a friendly, lighthearted tone that was so sincere it _had_ to be fake.  
  
He still couldn't keep himself from cracking a faint smile. “Your very presence is causing a stir. This _was_ supposed to be a secret base, you know.”  
  
Sunfire actually blushed in embarrassment at that, and she brought a hand up to rub her neck in a likewise expression. “Sorry about that. Just trying to check in on our allies, make sure everyone is doing okay. Things got pretty rough out there, after all.”  
  
Again there was that feeling that she actually cared, and while he wasn’t ready to believe it he was at least willing to be polite about it. “Don’t worry about me. Like I said back at the prison, I’m used to things like that.”  
  
Sunfire frowned at that, and he could tell there was an aimless and boiling anger beneath the surface. “Now, it’s stuff like that which makes me worry about you.”  
  
“Oh, and why’s that?” he asked with a fair bit of internal suspicion on his part.  
  
“'Cause it means you’ve seen the worst of this world, and I doubt you've ever had a chance to see the best."  
  
“If the best won’t help those stuck in the worst, then what good is it?” he asked pointedly.  
  
"It's like I told you before," she said softly. "It's about hope."  
  
“I prefer results to platitudes,” Adam replied.  
  
She snorted derisively, the sudden turn in her attitude catching him by surprise. "Then why the hell are you working so hard to sabotage faunus rights in every way possible? Do you really hate yourself that much?"  
  
Adam could feel heat rising up inside him like a volcano. “Excuse me? My actions have brought our people respect and recognition. People look to the White Fang, and they see a force for revolution.”  
  
"Liar!" Adam winced. _That_ had not been Sunfire; rather, it had been one of the Vacuan rescuees. They really had to get them back on their feet or back to Vacuo before they did more damage to recruitment and morale.  
  
"Recognition, maybe, but respect?" Sunfire shook her head. "Don't mistake fear for respect. Do you know what people do when faced with something they fear?"  
  
"They cower or run."  
  
"No," she said, then paused. "Well, yes, but more than that. They _wait_. Because people will always try to _destroy_ what they fear. You should know. After all, you're doing the same."  
  
"I am-!" he cut himself off and forced his voice lower. "I am not afraid of them."  
  
"Keep telling yourself that," she said, turning away from him dismissively to wave at one of the Vacuans.  
  
He felt then an almost overpowering urge to run her through, or to slap her to the ground and teach the human what her proper place was. Almost. He still had enough control to step back and realize what was going on.  
  
Adam smirked slightly. “You’re new to this game, aren’t you, Sunfire? Not the first time I’ve seen naivete like yours. You’ll come around. They always do.”  
  
Yang felt like a shaken soda bottle ready to pop, but before she could finish whirling around to give him a piece of her mind, he was already walking away to some other task. Instead, she just hmmphed and started walking back to her own path. She couldn’t let Adam Taurus get under her skin so easily.  
  
With a heavy sigh made light and airy, she turned back around and walked over to the Vacuans. She had a lot of questions for them still. She didn’t know if they had been answered yet, but she was out of the loop at that moment.  
  
“Are they treating you well?”  
  
“I guess? Depends on the person, really. We get room and board, and for the most part, we’re left alone. Some people talk to us?”  
  
“Are they getting you back on your feet or sending you guys home?”  
  
“Most of us have decided to stick together rather than get separated again, but yes. They seem pretty eager to get rid of us, actually.”  
  
“The food doesn’t taste too bad, does it?”  
  
“Needs more sand, frankly."  
  
“Any injuries?”  
  
“Yeah, but they’re all from before, and we’re healing quickly. That Ratchet guy really knows his stuff. Oh, and I guess the White Fang medics helped too.”  
  
On and on it went. She checked with as many as she could. Quite a few had gotten off with only malnutrition and infections, but others… that man who has managed to survive getting his arm chopped off with nothing but a dirty bedsheet to use as a bandage was a damn hero in her book.  
  
She was about to check on another set of Vacuans when she got a message from Bumblebee over her ear comm.  
  
 _”Yang, you just got a text from Maple on your scroll. She wants to meet with you as soon as possible. Something about an error coming up with the records of the last time we were there."_  
  
“That sounds strange,” Yang observed keenly.  
  
 _“Yeah, it does. Think something might have happened to her, or maybe she’s turned on us?”_  
  
“I don’t know, but either way, it could be a trap. Of course, we only really have one action there.”  
  
 _”Spring the trap?”_  
  
“But of course.”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
It was dark out by the time Yang pulled up to Maple’s Garage, and if that didn’t convince her something was up, the presence of only one other car in the parking lot certainly did.  
  
 _Good thing I changed into my normal clothes before I came,_ she thought as she got out of Bumblebee.  
  
“Cover me, will ya?”  
  
“Don’t worry, Yang. This street is covered,” Bumblebee replied. “Just don’t have this end up like last time.”  
  
“So you want me to fail then?” Yang asked cheekily.  
  
With deadly precision and practice, the blonde brawler deployed Ember Celica’s right gauntlet while using her left hand to open the door to the garage. It was dark inside, and Yang found herself wishing that she had donned her glasses even if they would be hard to justify. Still, there was one light she noticed in the building, coming from inside the garage proper.  
  
With careful steps, she inched towards the open doorway and pressed up next to it. She readied Ember Celica’s left gauntlet to deploy, and then swiftly stepped around to enter the large room. Inside, she expected to find a hostage scene or some sort of ambush, but instead, what she found was a beaver-tailed faunus with auburn hair pacing back and forth under the fluorescent lights next to a red Panther Chevron sports car with an expression of near-panic in her green eyes.  
  
“Maple?” said Yang questioningly, lowering her arms.  
  
The mechanic whipped around in shock, her eyes seeing to gain some focus back when they zeroed in on the student huntress in front of her. “Yang.” That was oddly informal of her; this was only the third or fourth time they'd met.  
  
“Maple, what’s wrong? I got your text, and…”  
  
The blonde human was cut off as the faunus advanced on her.  
  
“Just what the hell do you think you’re _doing?!_ ” she interrupted sharply.  
  
Lilac eyes blinked in confusion. “Excuse me?”  
  
“Okay, let me put it another way, _Sunfire_ ,” -- Yang’s eyes widened in shock at Maple’s words -- “have you completely lost your mind?!”  
  
Now Yang was feeling panic seep into the outer edges of her heart, but she stayed strong and attempted to redirect. “Maple, Maple, calm down. What are you talking about?”  
  
"Oh, come on, Yang, don't play dumb," Maple said, walking up and poking her in the chest. "I saw you chatting with Adam less than an hour ago."  
  
Yang blinked at that. Then she blinked again as the dots connected. "Wait. _You're_ a member of the White Fang?"  
  
"Of _course_ I am! How do you think-" Maple cut herself off, shook her head, and went back to pacing. "Nevermind. The _point_ is that you've put me in one hell of a situation."  
  
"You?" Yang echoed, confused.  
  
"You-" the mechanic stopped and stared at her. She walked over to a nearby brown leather and wood chair that had seen better days and slumped down into it, her tail slipping through a hole in the back rest. "You have no idea, do you? What Adam will do if he finds out who you are, who your _teammates_ are?"  
  
"I won't let him hurt Weiss," Yang declared.  
  
"'Wei-'? Protecting the Schnee is the _least_ of your problems," Maple hissed. "She's _already_ on his hit list, and this secret of yours isn't putting her in any more danger, but what do you think he'll do to _you?_ Your _family?_ Not to mention me and anyone else who knew and didn't tell him?"  
  
Yang felt her blood run cold as she thought about Ruby, a memory of a toddler in a wagon and a pack of Beowolves. _No,_ she insisted. _This isn't- this isn't like back then. This is_ important _._  
  
"We'll protect her," Bumblebee's voice came through the door, breaking her out of her mental death spiral.  
  
Shaking her head, Yang scanned the wall for the garage door control and pushed it, opening it for Bumblebee to roll in before closing it behind him. The Autobot transformed, carefully keeping his head low as he crouched and faced Maple. "We'll protect her," he repeated, "and her family. That, I promise."  
  
"Good for her," Maple snorted, "but that doesn't help me or... anyone else."  
  
Bumblebee seemed to shuffle uncomfortably at that. “Well, I mean, to the best of our knowledge, you’re the only other person who knows about Sunfire’s secret identity being Yang Xiao Long. So we’d only need to cover you too.”  
  
"If she keeps driving around in a yellow Bug while Sunfire goes around with a yellow Bug, it won't be that hard to figure out. And then there's the shot-gauntlets."  
  
Bumblebee raised a single mechanical finger. “Point about the Bug," he admitted, then looked at the Panther Chevron parked next to them, "but I can fix that." A flickering blue beam projected out, scanning the sports car, and he transformed into a similar -- albeit yellow, with black racing stripes -- form before switching back to his 'Bot mode. "There we go. Now I'm a triple-changer. As for the shot-gauntlets… I mean, she can’t be the only one out there who uses them, right?”  
  
“They’re not exactly the most common weapon out there.”  
  
“But it’s not impossible, and a lot of weapons use the same kind of ammo.”  
  
"'Possible' isn't the problem," she pointed out. "'Probable' is."  
  
"You said 'me and anyone else,'" Yang interrupted. "Who was the ‘anyone else’ you talking about?"  
  
Worried green eyes looked over at her. "Tukson," she said simply. "We've talked about this before, back when I first got my suspicions after Site Thirteen. He's got something planned out, though, been planning it for awhile since Cinder showed up."  
  
“We’ve heard that name before,” Bumblebee pointed out. “She’s the one ordering Torchwick to do the dust robberies. Who is she, really?”  
  
“Terrifying,” Maple answered bluntly. At the other two’s looks, she elaborated, “A few months ago, she rolls into Adam’s camp and tells him to work for her, and she’ll make all his dreams come true. He refuses. She goes out, and then comes back later with some freaky powers that she uses to kill… a lot of people. Good people too; we're not all like Adam. She makes the same offer, and Adam accepts this time.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Yang said softly. “I wish I’d been there to do something.”  
  
Maple gave her a look that obviously questioned her sanity, then looked at Bumblebee, then looked back at Yang. "Huntresses," she said, shaking her head. "Listen, Yang, point is, Cinder's got plans, she's powerful, and she's ruthless. I just don't want to get caught in the line of fire."  
  
"So why _didn't_ you tell Adam?" Yang asked. "That would leave you free and clear."  
  
"That would leave me with either your death on my conscience or with Adam expecting me to lie to Cinder about you," Maple corrected. "I'd rather fade into the background, but I can't _do_ that if your identity gets exposed, since I'm already connected to both sides. I don't like playing with fire, but between you, Cinder, and Torchwick, I don't have much choice."  
  
Yang snorted, amused. "Oh, that's a good one."  
  
"Yeah, have a good laugh," Maple said sourly. "I'm surprised your own team hasn't throttled you for this." Bumblebee and Yang exchanged a look, and she groaned. "Oh, no. They don't know, do they? _That's_ why you came here before Site Thirteen, isn't it? To cover for you with your team."  
  
"I… don't want them getting involved," Yang admitted. "Given the White Fang and who's on my team? Yeah, no."  
  
" _Huntresses_." Maple let out a resigned sigh. "Fine. Fine, I'll cover for you, if your big friend here doesn't mind getting a reputation as a bit of a clunker, at least."  
  
"I'm okay with that."  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_70TAZPStzQ)

  
There were rumors of a new Atlesian airship -- or air _plane_ , as some insisted -- under top secret development. At first, the rumor mill called it the "Aurora," for it was under those northern lights that most of the sightings of the alleged aircraft occurred. A few careful leaks, however, gave it the name "Skystriker." While Atlas developed new airships all the time, what made the Skystriker notable were the claims: it could fly far faster and higher than any existing airship or Grimm, and most notably, it didn't need gravity dust, running instead purely on a mixture of fire dust and air. Tech and military enthusiasts speculated at stealth capabilities as well, based on the apparent lack of anything beyond eyewitness reports and shaky scroll footage of the sightings.  
  
Under the light of the shattered moon, five of those sleek shapes -- though not quite the same as other sightings, most notably in their lack of a cockpit -- skimmed low across the ocean north of Sanus, heading toward the coast, unseen and undetected, leaving rooster tails of water in the wake of their passing. Painted in a multitude of colors, almost like a circus, they flew through the air at a speed that defied belief, but it was still well below their maximum capabilities; they were remaining below the sound barrier to avoid generating sonic booms that would draw far too much unwanted attention, human and Grimm alike.  
  
The five aircraft flew straight into the cliff face, vanishing through the holographic image. Inside, they continued to fly through a darkened tunnel, hitting the air brakes as they slowed to a hover before shifting forms and touching down on the landing pad. Without exterior defenses, this particular entrance relied on obscurity and certain entry requirements for defense; it required a minimum velocity, foreknowledge of the tunnel's path, and the ability to rapidly decelerate and hover. It was a combination that was difficult -- if not impossible -- to achieve with current human technology.  
  
Air Commander Starscream, now also Vale Theater Operations Commander, smiled as the welcoming committee emerged from within the facility.  
  
"Commander Starscream," Barricade said. "Welcome to Site Three."  
  
"Barricade," he said, nodding at the security specialist, "have there been any more… _incidents_ while I was en route?"  
  
"No, sir."  
  
"Excellent," Starscream said. He gestured at the other Seekers with him: Skywarp, Dirge, Thrust, and Ramjet. "As you can see, I brought reinforcements. Further reinforcements are also en route."  
  
"Understood, sir," Barricade said as the six Decepticons began walking through Site 3. The massive underground complex was a hub of their discreet transportation network. While many of the shipments could be run using the existing human infrastructure, there were elements -- such as the transportation of energon to the _Nemesis_ \-- that required wholly Decepticon facilities.  
  
As they walked, Barricade gave him a rundown on Vale Theater operations and their current status. Finally, his summary complete, he asked, "Orders?"  
  
"None," Starscream replied succinctly. "You are relieved of duty. Skywarp will be taking over most of your current tasks, effective immediately."  
  
"What?" Barricade blurted out, stopping mid-stride for a few seconds before rushing to catch up. "But-"  
  
"There have been a number of failures here in the Vale Theater, Barricade," Starscream reminded him, "and your involvement in each of them has been a common factor." Barricade flinched. "I am not without mercy, though. You will continue to operate under Skywarp's command."  
  
Barricade's optics flicked over to the other Seeker.  
  
"I am aware that Skywarp lacks your level of security training," Starscream acknowledged, "but I feel even your own is proving… inadequate. This is why, among the further reinforcements coming, I elected to bring in an intelligence specialist. A more… proactive approach should garner better results."  
  
"I see. Who, if I may ask?" Barricade silently hoped that, whoever it was, it was at least someone he could work with. _One_ blowhard with an ego was bad enough.  
  
"Why, only our best, of course," Starscream assured him. "I had him pulled from stasis specifically for this assignment.  
  
Well, their best was Soundwave, but the stasis comment obviously meant it couldn't be him. Not that Soundwave would ever serve under Starscream anyway. So, who…? Realization dawned on Barricade, and his optics widened. "Wait. You mean...?"  
  
"Ye-e-es," Starscream confirmed. "Counterpunch."  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D33Begj0084)

  
“Why’d you do it, Jaune?” Yang demanded as she held her fellow blonde in a chokehold. “Why’d you break up with my sister after a single date? Do you just hate living, Jaune? Is that it?!”  
  
“It’s not what you think, Yang!” Jaune choked out between strangled gasps.  
  
“That’s Miss Xiao Long to you, jerk!”  
  
In the stands around the combat course’s arena, students were watching with horror, morbid curiosity, and raucous laughter. Worry, though, was taking the lead in two of the students: Ruby Rose and Pyrrha Nikos. The two girls were locked in mute horror at the scene before them.  
  
“Ruby, you have to stop your sister,” pleaded Pyrrha desperately.  
  
“I tried!” the younger girl replied. “She wouldn’t listen. She just asked who I really went on a date with, but I couldn’t answer because there was no boy and no date!”  
  
"How did this even happen? What did you _say_ to her?"  
  
"I told her we decided to just be friends," Ruby mumbled.  
  
“Why did you even say you were on a date in the first place?” asked Weiss.  
  
“I don’t know! I’m bad at lying! Why did you guys put me in this position?!” Ruby panicked.  
  
“Wasn’t it your plan to split up?” asked Blake.  
  
“And it was a terrible plan!”  
  
Meanwhile, Nora was calling down encouragement, "Come on, Jauney! Kick her butt! You can do it!"  
  
"Do you really believe he can win?" Ren asked.  
  
She gave a small shake of her head. "Nope, not a chance."  
  
Seeing no other choice, Blake called down into the arena. “Professor Goodwitch, you have to end this!”  
  
“No,” the bespectacled blonde teacher replied. “Ms. Xiao Long has been unusually unmotivated and uninvolved as of late, and now, she’s finally showing more of that passion she used to have. You should have one night stands more often, Ms. Rose.”  
  
“‘ONE NIGHT STAND’?!”  
  
“...help…”  
  
Ruby blushed furiously in embarrassment and flipped her hood up, hunching down to let it droop over her eyes, even as Jaune’s pained screams started anew with a suplex by Yang.  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
Yang tried not to scream as Professor Goodwitch telekinetically suplexed her for the third time that day. She almost succeeded. Almost.  
  
“You’re too predictable,” chided Glynda as she walked towards the overturned blonde. “Stop using the standard attacks; use the unorthodox!”  
  
“I’ll treat you like you're twenty feet tall. How’s that for unorthodox?” Yang muttered under her breath.  
  
“What was that?” asked the teacher from across the arena.  
  
“I said, ‘give me another shot, teach,'” the younger blonde lied as she wobbled back up.  
  
Glynda looked at her curiously. “Yang, we’ve been at this for half an hour, and I can already tell precisely what the problem with your fighting style is. Can you guess what that is?”  
  
Yang was about to bite back with some comment, but held her tongue and thought. What had been the main issue she had been having in her last few battles? …excessive ammo consumption on a threadbare budget.  
  
Neo had dodged her shots. Barricade had simply absorbed her fire. Both required a lot of recoil boosting to fight. At the rate she was going, she would be out of ammo and lien way before she could replenish either.  
  
“I’m wasting too many of my attacks,” she said aloud.  
  
“Good,” Glynda replied with the ghost of a smile. “Now, why is that?”  
  
Now Yang thought back to how her fight with Glynda had gone until then. A telekinetic against a brawler? She might as well be fighting a hurricane for all the good she was able to do. It was just a bad match-up. Still, that was no reason to throw the match, and that’s what she was doing every time she pulled a Cliffjumper.  
  
“I’m too direct?”  
  
“Exactly,” Glynda said simply before walking over to her. “Now, let’s see what we can do to break that habit and get you thinking outside the box.”  
  
They didn’t exactly get to the point where Yang was able to break her habit completely, but they were getting close. When she walked out of the remedial course, she was sporting a smile along with her cuts and bruises. It made for an interesting sight when she got in Bumblebee after lunch.  
  
“Holy smokes, Yang. You look like you went ten rounds with the floor and lost every time,” the disguised Autobot commented.  
  
“That’s kind of what happened,” the blonde commented cheerily. “Feels great.”  
  
“Okay, I can sort of understand that, maybe,” said Bumblebee hesitantly. In a more sure voice, he said, “Optimus called, by the way. When you’re ready, he wants you to come to our headquarters.”  
  
Yang paused, eyes wide. “What? Are you serious?!” she asked in astonishment and joy.  
  
“Well, Optimus certainly is, so I don’t see why I shouldn’t be too,” Bumblebee said with what certainly sounded like a smile.  
  
“Well, what are we waiting for?”  
  
“Absolutely nothing. To the _Ark_ , away!"  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“Optimus, are you sure it’s wise to bring Yang here?” Ratchet asked as he walked up behind the big red Autobot leader.  
  
“Do you have a specific complaint in mind, old friend?” asked Optimus, turning back around to face the white and red medic.  
  
“As a matter of fact, I do,” replied Ratchet. “I’m worried she might be digging in too deep, too quickly. Not to mention the effects of the battle at Site Thirteen and its aftermath.”  
  
Optimus let out a deep shuffling sigh of displeasure. “Seeing the effects of Decepticon cruelty never gets any easier.”  
  
“Except it does,” Ratchet said with cutting insight, and his leader looked at him anew. “The emotional toll doesn’t get any easier, but we have so many solar cycles of experience coping with it that we have to round to the nearest million. She doesn’t. She’s got seventeen solar cycles, and those seventeen cycles haven’t been spent burying mass graves; they’ve been spent living like a member of the warrior caste before the war. Not an easy life, for sure, but a far cry even still from this nasty business.”  
  
“What would you have us do then, Ratchet?” asked Prime sympathetically. “You’ve seen the fire in her eyes just the same as I have. She’s not going to stop. Not for us, not for anything. That very fact is why I invited her here in the first place, to bring her into the fold as an equal, so that she would try to coordinate with us instead of feeling compelled to act on her own without backup.”  
  
“What would I do?” Ratchet repeated back before pausing. “I don’t know. We didn't exactly bring a therapist with us on the _Ark_. I would recommend at least trying to keep her circumstances in mind in the future. You’re right about her disturbing tendency to Cliffjumper though, like earlier this week with visiting the White Fang’s base. Which brings me conveniently to our other problematic native ally.”  
  
“You disapprove of my reasoning, Ratchet?”  
  
“Oh, no, it makes perfect sense,” assured the medic. “I'm just worried you might not be seeing the situation objectively.”  
  
"You're concerned I might be too invested, that in trying to steer Adam from his course, I'm trying to redeem myself for failing to keep Megatron from _his_ path."  
  
"You have to admit, Prime, the parallels are obvious to anyone with working optics."  
  
Optimus heaved a sigh. "You may be right, Ratchet," he acknowledged. "I am not perfect. I am an Autobot first, a Prime second, and even the Primes were never infallible." He placed a hand on Ratchet's shoulder. "I can only assure you that it is a concern I have considered at length myself."  
  
Ratchet shrugged with a smile. “Well, who knows? Maybe this will all work out for the best.”  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“Say, Bee, are you sure this is the way?” asked Yang as she jumped from craggy tree to craggy tree.  
  
They had traveled for about two hours along the mountain roads, broken and bumpy from lack of maintenance, going deep into the Barrier Peaks. Eventually, though, they had to continue on foot and were forced into the alpine forest that ran in the canyons and valleys between peaks. It was rough going, as befitting any path in the great divide between Vale and the rest of Remnant.  
  
It was a beautiful path though, and Yang could not help but feel her heart be buoyed by the presence of so much natural grandeur. Soaring mountains were all about her, along with green coniferous trees stretching out to scrape the sky, while all around animals went about their business, headless of any humans or faunus that might happen upon them.  
  
Everything from squirrels and deer to birds and iridescent insects could be seen flittering about. The birds in particular were in so many different gorgeous colors that she felt she could make a game out of counting them all. There was a red bird, a white bird, a black bird, and even a yellow bird…  
  
Yang paused for a moment, and Bumblebee turned back to check on her. “Something up, Yang?”  
  
The blonde shrugged before moving on. “Nothing. Just thought I’d forgotten something.”  
  
“Oh,” Bumblebee muttered as she passed. “Did you?”  
  
“I don’t think so,” Yang said, though even to herself it sounded like she wasn’t sure.  
  
The black bird tilted its head curiously at her before flying off to another tree. The red and the white birds did likewise soon after. The yellow perched on its tree all alone as the big bipeds passed into the distance.  
  
In due time, they came upon the mouth of a cave large enough for even Bumblebee to stand in but shielded from flying eyes by the forest above and around it. Yang’s Autobot companion directed them to move in, and so little fuss was made in doing so. This time, the blonde brawler had brought out her glasses, and so was able to see in the murky gloom.  
  
They passed down several passages and soon came to a flattened rock face that, upon close inspection, looked a little too conveniently-shaped. On that rock face was a ridge, and into that ridge, Bumblebee’s metal fingers gripped. With a mighty pull, the rockface tore apart, and now exposed was the entrance to a particularly large elevator.  
  
The two made their way inside and closed the door behind them.  
  
“You know, this place is _not_ easy to get to,” Yang complained as Bumblebee activated the elevator.  
  
“I know, right? I keep saying we should dig a tunnel or something that exits closer to the road, but apparently, we just don’t have the energon for that,” the yellow ‘Bot said as the elevator began its descent.  
  
Yang paused, considering those words, and when she spoke, it was with a tone of deep concern. “You don’t have energon for a lot of things, do you?”  
  
“No.”  
  
"What's it feel like?" she asked. "Does it… hurt?"  
  
“I... kind of? Not really. I... don’t know how to translate it, but I guess the best guess is 'hunger'?”  
  
Yang felt her mouth going dry. “How bad?”  
  
Bumblebee sighed. “It’s… listen. We’ve been in worse spots before, and we’ve come out okay. You shouldn’t worry, especially since things are looking up now.”  
  
Before their conversation could continue, the elevator came to a stop, and the door opened. Yang stepped out and felt her breath be taken away. It was… everything she expected and more.  
  
The room the elevator opened onto was cavernous in a way that actual caverns couldn’t hope to match; big and gaping, it felt more like a sealed stadium than the cargo bay it clearly was. Boxes were laid out in clear and concise lines, many of which she could perceive were clearly looted from Site 13. Unlike that dark and horrifying place though, the _Ark_ was well well-lit and inviting, enough so that she pulled her glasses up to rest on her forehead. Even the walls, in contrast to the cold greys of Site 13, were instead in warm oranges and earth tones.  
  
It felt like walking back into her family’s garage back on Patch, like she had come back home. Whoever the architect -- _Ark-itect, heh_ \-- was, if they still lived, she would have to give her compliments to them. They had clearly done a fantastic job making the vessel an inviting place.  
  
A relative short distance away, a blue and grey Autobot wearing green goggles had been checking on the contents of one of the boxes. He was already looking at them and greeted them with a friendly wave. Yang felt it polite to wave back.  
  
“Well, hello there, little lady. Name’s Beachcomber. Heard a lot about you.”  
  
“Hi, Beachcomber! Name’s Yang Xiao Long, but people call me Sunfire when I’m ‘on the clock,’ as they say,” she said with a friendly smile. “I’ve heard a little bit about you too. You’re a geologist, right?”  
  
“Right you are, Yangarang. Just got out of stasis, so now I’m helping old Ratchet with analyzing this groovy dust stuff,” the blue Autobot explained. “Got any insights?”  
  
Yang shook her head. _Heh, ‘Yangarang.'_ “Nah, can’t say that I do. No more than any other graduate of Signal Academy. Doing weird stuff with dust is more Weiss’s speed.”  
  
“Friend of yours?” asked Beachcomber.  
  
“Kind of? It’s complicated,” explained Yang.  
  
“Sounds like. Well, if you ever feel the need to get it off your chassis, my audio receptors are always open. Anyway, I’ve got to finish packing up here, so I’ll leave you to it. So long!”  
  
Yang and Bumblebee walked on, through an open doorway and out of the cargo bay, and soon enough, they came upon a much smaller room that was no less impressive to the young human’s eyes. It appeared to be a gigantic recreation room, completely with televisions, benches, and tables aplenty. It was at one of those tables, playing a game of Praxus Fold ‘Em, that they found five Autobots in mostly white and red colors: the Aerialbots.  
  
The first to notice them -- mostly by virtue of where he was sitting -- was Air Raid. He rose to his feet and knelt down, extending a fist. "Hey, 'Fire."  
  
Yang beamed as she sauntered up to him and fistbumped him. She felt an odd kinship with the Aerialbot. "Hey, Raid."  
  
"Welcome aboard the _Ark_ , kid," Air Raid said. "Still kicking tailpipe?"  
  
"You know it." She grinned.  
  
“Oi! Can you two cool your jets so we can get back to the game? I’m about to win here.”  
  
Air Raid turned back to his fellow. “You’ve been saying that for the last four rounds, Slingshot, and you’ll be ‘about’ to win it for the next four too.”  
  
As Air Raid went back to his chair, the leader of the group, Silverbolt, spoke up. “So, Bumblebee, how’s city life treating you?”  
  
“Oh, it’s great,” the little -- next to his fellows, it was clear, if still a little odd to think, that he _was_ little -- Autobot replied. “You’d love it. Just flat ground everywhere you go. Maybe you should come visit some time.”   
  
Silverbolt chuckled. “Sounds like you’re living the dream, but I think I’ll stay here for now. After all, who’s going to watch after these four if I’m gone?”  
  
Slingshot seemed to find that objectionable, and shook a pointing finger at his leader. “I don’t need you or anyone else watching after me. If anything, _I_ should be watching after _you_. After all, I’m the fastest and strongest here."  
  
“And the shortest,” Air Raid deadpanned.  
  
Before the two of them could go at it, Fireflight sauntered into the conversation with the grace of an errant drunk. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about us, Silverbolt. We can all take care of ourselves.”  
  
“Your cards are showing,” Silverbolt pointed out.  
  
Fireflight’s eyes slowly dipped down, noticed that his loose grip on his cards had allowed them to dip far enough to be clearly visible to the table, and he slowly raised them back up along with his eyes. “So they are.”  
  
With that line firmly into the ditch of the weird, Skydive spoke up. “Say, did you guys see what was up by Peak Fifty-Eight on our last recon flight?”  
  
“A bunch of rusty ruins, right?” asked Air Raid.  
  
“'Bunch of rusty ruins'?” asked Skydive, aghast. “Why, those are one of the original anti-aircraft emplacements built during the Great War to defend Vale against Mantelian terror bombings. Sometimes, they turned whole mountains into bunkers, just for that purpose, and did you see those guns? Hundred and twenty millimeters, at least.”  
  
“Oh Primus, not the Great War again,” Slingshot bemoaned.  
  
Yang’s reaction was decidedly different, laughing a lighthearted, airy sort of laugh.  
  
“Something funny?” asked Skydive.  
  
“Oh, it’s nothing,” said Yang good naturedly. “It’s just that you reminded me of my sister for a moment.”  
  
“Oh, and who’s your sister?” asked Silverbolt.  
  
“Don’t you mean, ‘what’s a sister?” asked Fireflight seriously.  
  
Yang ignored the spacy Autobot, and her lilac eyes grew wide with both joy and excitement that was reflected upon her whole countenance. “Oh, my sister’s name is Ruby Rose! She’s five foot three inches tall, with red-ish black hair and these big beautiful silver eyes that always catch the light in cool ways,” as she was speaking, the blonde removed her wallet and brought out a photograph of the girl in question. “She’s training to be a huntress, like me, and she got accepted into Beacon two years early. Do you know how often that happens? Not very often, that’s for sure, but it happened with Ruby. It happened with Ruby because she’s just that good. She built her own high-caliber sniper-scythe all on her own, and okay, we all had to forge our own weapons at Signal, even me, but just look at Crescent Rose,” at that, out came a pair of pictures of the red and black weapon in different alt-modes. “It’s amazing, and she’s amazing with it. She just darts all over the battlefield, slicing Grimm apart hither and thither. I don’t use those words often, but I do here, because she deserves them. Anyway, the reason I bring her up is because she loves weapons and books, and seriously, she is _crazy_ knowledgeable about this stuff. Why just the other day she was walking down the hall and at a distance of three hundred paces she sees…”  
  
Slingshot turned to face Bumblebee with a frown clearly visible. “Why have you done us dirty like this?”  
  
Bumblebee shrugged as Yang continued to talk on and on about her sister, and it seemed like she left not a single detail out.  
  
“...so she ran _up_ the cliff and _beheaded_ the Nevermore! Can you believe that? That’s insane! But it’s just a normal day in the life for Ruby Rose.”   
  
“Hey, Yang?” asked Bumblebee.  
  
“Yeah, Bee?” Yang said, whipping her head around to face him.  
  
“We better get going. After all, Optimus did call us here for a reason.”  
  
Yang’s eyes widened slightly, and she felt her back getting that little bit straighter. “Oh yeah, you’re right! Sorry, guys. I’ll have to finish this story later.”   
  
With that, the yellow pair left the presence of the Aerialbots, with several making appreciative gestures to Bumblebee.   
  
It wasn’t long after that where Yang found herself passing one of open doors in the ship, for they were all open, and marveling she gazed upon what was within: row upon row of caskets, shrouded in the dark as a room not often used. It was, she suspected, the room where the rest of the Autobots were being held in stasis. Bumblebee confirmed as much.  
  
“You know, the part that gets me the most though?”  
  
“What?” asked Yang.  
  
“I never got to know all their names, and here we are, defending their very lives against threats they can’t defend themselves from. Been a long time since war was like that on Cybertron,” explained Bumblebee. "On Cybertron, everyone fights; no one quits."  
  
Yang looked up at him with an amused expression. “So what you’re saying is that now you’re a Huntsman, and that’s weird to you?”  
  
Bumblebee turned to look at her. “What? I’m a Huntsman?”  
  
“Basically,” Yang smiled.  
  
“Hmm,” Bumblebee hummed, considering it as he walked off along the hall. “Maybe I should get licensed, earn some money, get some dust, make some energon. Not a bad idea.”  
  
“Not a bad idea at all,” Yang agreed.  
  
“Later though,” Bumblebee finished with a smile.  
  
The two soon came upon their destination, and Yang found herself inside the command bridge of the _Ark_. It was… surprisingly small. Granted, it was still gigantic to her, but for a Cybertronian, it would probably feel downright cramped.   
  
Optimus Prime was there, as were Ironhide and Ratchet. On a screen nearby was a picture of Jazz with what looked like a transmission icon next to it. It seemed like the gang was all there, or close enough at least.  
  
 _“...telling you, Prime. The next guy you let out of stasis better be Prowl. My surveillance net is good, but it’s not_ that _good. I need some help out here,”_ Jazz asked his leader over the wireless.  
  
“We’ll need a new source of energon first, Jazz. At our current levels and numbers, we’ll only be able to stay online for a quarter of a solar cycle, half if we stretch it,” Optimus replied.  
  
Yang felt her breath stopping at that. A quarter of a solar cycle? That was… her friends were only a few months away from _starvation_?! That… she couldn’t let that happen.  
  
 _“Any chance of getting a new source of dust then? Maybe putting some of that Decepticon junk we got from that horror show to good use?”_ inquired Jazz.  
  
It was Ratchet that answered, though his voice was grim. “Unfortunately, the equipment recovered from Site Thirteen is remarkably inefficient. Beachcomber and I are working on a solution, but for the moment, we’re going to need a _lot_ of dust to make enough energon to keep us supplied.”  
  
 _“Oh, of course. Like I said, typical Decepti-junk,”_ Jazz complained.  
  
It was at that moment that Ironhide turned his head and found Bumblebee and Yang in the open doorway. The yellow pair waved at him, and he beckoned them over.   
  
As if he had some sort of sixth sense, Optimus greeted them without looking. “Ah, Bumblebee, Yang. How good of you to join us. I was just about to tell Jazz here about our plans to secure a source of energon and track down the remaining Decepticon facilities.”  
  
“What’s the plan, Optimus?” asked Bumblebee, while Yang did her best to stand at attention.   
  
“The information we’ve gathered from Site Thirteen has turned up several leads on possible paths for transport from facility to facility. We will stake out these locations and track any movement to and from their destinations. That way we should be able to identify the entire Decepticon network,” informed Optimus.   
  
“It’s simple, but effective,” commented Ironhide. “No need to take unnecessary risks, 'til we start bustin’ chrome, that is.”  
  
“Indeed,” Optimus said before continuing. “However, there is one other location of interest.”  
  
At that, a new image came up on one of the large holographic screens, one of a large imposing structure in downtown Vale.  
  
“The Schnee Dust Company Regional Headquarters in Vale, the nexus of all their operations on the eastern half of the Sanus continent,” narrated Prime. “If the SDC is involved at all in this madness, we’ll find proof of it there. That information will allow us to better pinpoint the locations of the Decepticon facilities and their energon storehouses. Given its location, however, this will take considerable planning and preparation in order to avoid risking innocent lives and minimize collateral damage.”  
  
Upon hearing this, Yang raised her hand.  
  
Optimus’s eyes dipped down. “Comments, Yang?”  
  
“Are you planning to raid this facility yourselves?” asked the blonde  
  
The Autobots looked at each other, and Ironhide spoke up. “Well, we were going to ask you to help with some of the early recon, but yeah basically.”  
  
“I’ve got a better idea,” said Yang. “Stay on overwatch while me and the White Fang go in to do the dirty work.”  
  
 _”What?”_ said Jazz, speaking up. _”Did I hear that right? You want to bring in the White Fang for another operation? Are you crazy, Yang?”_  
  
“Hey, I’m not exactly happy about it either,” Yang defended, “but you guys are a bit big for the doors, and I can’t do this alone." Maybe with her team… she quashed that thought. "Besides, going after the SDC is something the White Fang have experience with, and this is probably a target they'd hit anyway. Might as well ride herd on them while they're there."  
  
A deep, thoughtful rumble came from Optimus. “Your suggestion has merit, Yang, but we will need to perform a more thorough risk assessment before moving forward.”  
  
“I understand, sir,” she accepted. “I’m in this for the long haul, so just let me know what you need from me, and I'll take care of it.”  
  
“Heh, big words from such a small package,” observed Ironhide. He shook his head. "Always the little ones, eh, Prime?"  
  


[* * *](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQbrnHu98OM)

  
“Hmm, and yet somehow I’m not surprised,” observed Professor Greene as she lay down the printed out sheets of paper down on the desk in front of her. “A very in-depth analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of SDC security protocols. Tell me, Ms. Xiao Long, did your teammate happen to help you with this?”  
  
Yang, standing across from the stealth teacher in the empty classroom, considered that. “It would have made sense, but no. I didn’t want you to think I was cheating.”   
  
Greene shook her head. “Using the resources available to you is not a problem. Indeed, it is a requirement of being a good Huntress. Lying to your teachers, on the other hand…”  
  
Yang felt sweat on the back of her neck.  
  
“...well, I’m sure you’re trying to protect your sources. Just say so up front and don’t risk them over something so petty again. Heck, you’re lucky that I’m even able to recognize this, and no, I'm not telling you how I know enough to judge its accuracy.”  
  
“Understood, ma’am,” agreed Yang.  
  
Greene stared at her for a few moments and then gestured to one of the empty seats. Yang took the offer.  
  
“In any case, it’s time we begin,” said Greene. “Today’s lesson is how not to be seen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please come join us on our Discord server, [Sapphire Sparks](https://discord.gg/acKKNXR).
> 
> **Author's Note 1 (Cyclone):**
> 
> Hey, look! Character development! From _Adam_ , of all people! Secrets begin to strain, on all parties. Prime has doubts. And Ruby's bad at lying, news at eleven.
> 
> BTW, Yang babbling about Ruby is all Cody. I take no credit or blame for that. Actually, looking over it, most of this chapter is all Cody.
> 
> New characters! Beachcomber honestly wasn't on my radar until very recently, but a geologist is _exactly_ the kind of expert you want to study dust. The Aerialbots, of course, were mentioned previously. And Seekers! _All_ the (named G1 cartoon) Seekers (since Thundercracker showed up last episode)!
> 
> FYI, for character design, Beachcomber is largely G1-style, but for the Aerialbots and Seekers… we're thinking something closer to the WFC aesthetics.
> 
> **Author's Note 2 (Cody MacArthur Fett):**
> 
> Reading over this, it was commented by Cyclone that people might pick up on the fact that Yang was referring to Bumblebee as her partner, not Blake. It could be something meaningful, yes, but on the other hand it could just be that I find the whole "partner" term utterly ridiculous from the get go and so will probably never in a million years write any Beacon student as referring to another Beacon student as their partner. It's unseemly, and messes with team cohesion. . . . Then again, she has been spending most of her time with Bumblebee, so who knows? Maybe I'm just getting brain jacked like Cyclone got with Onslaught.
> 
> Though, speaking of Yang, her being a proud mama was actually what got me out of a funk I was having and gave me the strength to finish the chapter. I was walking around with a big smile the whole day after writing that. It's funny the effects characters can have on us.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come join us on our Discord server, [Sapphire Sparks](https://discord.gg/acKKNXR).


End file.
